RISE OF THE SILVER PHOENIX
by Hakucho-E
Summary: Sephiroth and his brothers have been destroyed and the Geostigma has resided. But life is not as peaceful as people have hoped. Whilst some are sleeping soundly at night, there are those plagued by mysterious visions from the daemonic worlds, warning about dangers on the horizon and the destruction of the world. Various/many pairings.
1. In the beginning there was sin

**R.O.S.P**

 **RISE OF THE SILVER PHOENIX**

 **Based on the games of**

 ** _Final Fantasy VII_**

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I do not own the original characters and story line, however, the new plot is sprung from my own little deviant mind.

Hakucho

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 **IN THE BEGINNING THERE WAS...SIN.**

In the beginning the creation was but the humble shape of the heavens and planets, but the planets were without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep. Then the Spirit within stirred through the darkness and hoped to once again bask in the light… and there was light and the Spirit saw the light… and it felt good, welcoming, like a dear friend greeting the empty eyes of a weary warrior.

Vincent opened his eyes and the morning light cut through him like daggers, piercing his head like vicious memories from the past, from a not so distant past. He awoke to the daybreak-chanting of the priests as they announced through hollering the grace and goodness of the Gods. Gods that supposedly watched over every step of the people slowly filling the marketplace underneath his open window; but it was just an illusion. They were all alone.

Vincent sat up, his red mantle rolling off his chest as he leaned over to the windowsill, observing the busy craftsmen and salesmen raising one stand after another, offering their services or merchandise to the weekend-shoppers. They were all so very happy. Every day was like a celebration of life to them and they were rejoicing; and for a good reason. The evil that had plagued them was now dead, abolished, destroyed and quite soon forgotten. But Vincent couldn't forget, he couldn't rejoice, and he felt no calmness soothing his soul. There was nothing but turmoil and resounding anguish inside of him, transforming Chaos into a restive fiend, which was constantly on the edge of breaching the boundaries he kept within and manifesting in the flesh.

Vincent took a deep breath and watched a group of children play hide-and-seek between stands and the playground architecture of the park. Their laughter was witness to a carefree youth, but Vincent's numb lips could not bless the day with even the faintest smile. Why was he cold inside? Why was he dead now when life truly began? Sephiroth was dead! Vincent had witnessed the destruction of the one-winged angel and the return of colour and brightness to the skies. The obscurity vanished and the entire planet was set free from the dread that kept them captive in their nightmares. Thus, why couldn't Vincent express joy? At least be glad for the fact that his vicious lie had become true. Yes, he was now released from the burdens of his tailing pain of being delusory towards his beloved Lucrecia.

Vincent jolted at the mere thought of that name; Lucrecia. It was still too painful and he felt the panic building up inside him like a monster, ravaging from within. He turned away from the window, brushing his sable locks aside as he glanced into the darkness of his domicile. The dwelling was so dim and gloomy that it instantly wrapped his soul in a chill, forcing the warrior to once again stare into the blinding morning sun. It appeared as if even the light wanted to escape this square cave he called his home. Indeed, Vincent's room was always dark for he fled into its obscure security. Fled from the light, from the scrutiny of brightness as if he feared his soul would reveal its darkest desires in the presence of daylight.

Upon his final journey from Lucrecia's crystal grave, he had given her peace by swearing her child had died at birth. Yes, her only son; a hideous mongrel who was integrated with an ancient species with powers comparable to a demigoddess. Sephiroth was the one-winged angel who was born of two mothers and a father more sinister than the beasts of Hell, and even though the beautiful seraph was part human, he had inherited the worst part of the weak flesh. He inherited his insanity, the frailty of the human mind, so easily controlled and misled by a higher power, such as Jenova. Now, her remains were scattered into the unknown, her seraph son was dead and Lucrecia could find true peace. Still, Vincent couldn't.

He was burning in the flames of his guilt like a sinner. He was carrying the sins of the father as a young seraph was sacrificed like a lamb in the purgatory sprung from human madness and hunger for power. Vincent had never before been tormented by thoughts like these. He had always fought for the death of the Jenova spawns, yet now facing the truth, he felt increasingly uneasy sensing that the death of this angel was premature. Vincent could feel the pain and the torment of the Seraph's spirit through Chaos; the Daemon that linked them both not only to a common past but also united them through the forces of Gaia and the Lifestream of the planet and the Universe. Vincent leaned even further out of the window, almost as if he reached through the gaping mouth of a monster that wanted to swallow him. With a weak breath he released a name that was carried to the skies on the wings of culpability; Sephiroth.

But across the clouds his spirit could marvel at its shadow, fly and land inside the restless mind of Cloud who had been sleepless for days. It had been a few years since he defeated Sephiroth and thereby his sinister "little brother", Kadaj. It was something everyone had fought for, a joint effort that Cloud had executed. Yet the sweetness of victory had a bitter aftertaste that haunted him at nights in the shape of that bastard child – the spawn of Jenova – just another victim of human madness. Kadaj's fate, as with the fate of Sephiroth, was tied to that of billions and a future that was ever so uncertain if they were allowed to live. There was no other choice but to destroy them. It was the way it had to be done. Unfortunately, Death was irreversible and Life was the only thing that mattered; it had to prevail no matter the cost.

"Another bad dream?" spoken softly from beside him.

Cloud smiled a little and turned to the side, facing Tifa. He nodded wordlessly and snuggled deeper into her embrace, but it wasn't what it used to be. He felt the warmth from her body but it wasn't comforting, he felt her kisses but what he returned was not passion. He felt her infatuation but it left him… numb. Cloud scolded himself inwardly for being a hypocrite as he used Tifa's heat to kill the cold inside his soul. It was unforgivable. The truth was, their relationship had deteriorated since that day of victory and Cloud wasn't sure they were going to be able to hold on in the long run. He stared up at the ceiling going through previous conversations that had rooted in his mind the past weeks. The summary of which was painting an alarming picture of a possible future with a bitter aftertaste. They had been sitting in the kitchen talking.

"You said, 'I think I know how you're feeling'," Tifa began and then added sullenly, "but I doubt it, Cloud. You don't."

No, it was true, for if he had known anything about her qualms and emotions, they wouldn't be here at the end of everything; occasionally reuniting over a cup of coffee to recall of what the past was like. The questions that bloomed through emotional turmoil were:

"What's happened to us, Cloud? Did we grow apart, did we do something wrong, or did we simply never grow together?"

Cloud had been lost for words. He had an urge to live his dreams but that came at a cost; the cost of his relationship. He wasn't ready for the stability Tifa was seeking. His life was high-paced and his lust was hiding secret images of forbidden passion not to be exposed to the world. Images he had kept locked within since the awakening of entangling and strange desires; shrouded for the shame and fear he wanted to avoid by sealing his lips and building a wall around himself. At times when Cloud came home late at night, watching Tifa sleeping on the couch, the flaxen beauty realized that their love had become nothing more than sacrifice and in that split second he was no longer sure that they would remain together for very long.

"Where do we go from here?" Cloud had asked in return and strangely the smile he received in response did not carry testimony of a sad girl.

She was tired, but not sad. She was strong and it made him feel ever so safe. That was Tifa's strength. She took the edge of his worry. It no longer mattered if their ways converged or if it separated to nowhere, because somehow their path would still intertwine. Cloud was sure of that. Their future was obscured in mystery; a mystery akin to the hidden meaning behind the nightmares that currently plagued Cloud every night. The only emotion he could identify with was guilt because it was always present.

Cloud attempted to defend himself in the face of guilt, which kept staring back at him each time he closed his eyes; repeating over and over that it was the only thing he could do. Kill the spawns, kill them both, kill them all if necessary. In fact, the disease had receeded the moment Kadaj's spirit merged with the force of life and Sephiroth dissolved into people's memories.

It was good; Cloud had done what had been expected of him. He had done the right thing. That's what they all chanted, that's what they all said, and that was what Cloud now questioned every waking moment. In Death, these spawns had become more powerful it seemed. Something about them was not letting Cloud go and anguish was his daily bread.

It all began only a few months following the destruction of Sephiroth… the nightmare… the nightmares. They began shortly after Kadaj gave up his last breath. Cloud had held the spawn of Jenova until the wild heart stopped beating, the lungs collapsed and the limpid emeralds had lost their shine. Cloud had never spoken to anyone about it, not even his young love Tifa, but guilt troubled him and his arms were longing for a slight tremble of a phantom body to assure he hadn't been the bringer of Death. At times he even managed to delude himself into believing he had done the right thing, but those delusions only lasted until he closed his eyes, then the nightmare came to wake him up to reality.

After a few minutes attempting to sleep, Cloud realized it was but a waste of time and effort. With a deep sigh the blond got out of bed and went into the kitchen. With automatic, almost robotic movements his feet trod the path that led straight to the refrigerator and a bottle of milk was emptied into a large glass. Cloud sat down at the kitchen table near the window and stared into the slowly waking sun beyond the horizon. His mind was tired, the nightmares were draining him of focus and his sanity, for at times Cloud found himself lost in daydreams that seemed so real he could have sworn it was so. The emotions that flowed freely through him, the confusions and the anguish were all so genuine it made his skin crawl just thinking about it. But they weren't his thoughts, his dreams. He was most certain about that, for he had never before encountered situations that would seed such terror inside him as these daydreams and nightmares did.

His beautiful sapphires, stained with patches of teal, blinked a few times and then shut their marvellous portals simultaneously with a relieving breath. When Cloud opened his eyes again, he saw the marble whiteness of the buffalo-milk swirling to the motions of his hands. He lifted the glass to his lips and took a sip, then without removing the glass, he took another guttural gulp and yet another. It was cold and soothing and his upset stomach welcomed the white balm sinking into the depths of the young man's belly. The glass was half empty when Cloud removed it from his lips and set it down on the polished, metallic surface of the table.

Metal. It was so sterile… so cold. Cloud hated it. He hated metal. Everything in life that was associated with pain had come in the form of metal and he was glad to finally discard the Ultima sword for good. As the images of the devastating power of the sword flashed before his eyes, a sudden ring of singing crystal hit him from the great beyond. The glass shattered in his hands and the milk spread over the table, dripping over the edge of the metallic surface like white blood over the edge of a knife. White blood… like the blood of an angel. Cloud was slowly losing himself in the trickle and pelting of the thick liquid, listening to every drop seemingly echoing from the floor as if his small kitchen had been in the belly of a vast cave. Drip-drop… drip-drop… drip-drop… drip-drop….

A terrible thud crashed against his eardrums and a flicker of a shadow was cast over the table, remnants of a black pigeon that flew into the window and pierced its own chest with its sharp beak at the moment of impact. It was lying on the windowsill, struggling to hold on to its last breath whilst its eyes turned opaque and cloudy, and the essence of life left its body with the blood pouring through the gaping wound in its chest. Cloud shivered beside himself.

This was not the first time. Since the nightmares began, the bed of lilies under his window, a gift from Aeris, had turned into a graveyard for birds. Tiny bodies piling onto the ground, falling from the skies like tears of angels. They were all black, tears of tar, saturating the ground with blood until the lilies had turned red. Cloud removed them in the morning, but by nightfall, the lilies were once again buried under flesh and blood.

Drip-drop… drip-drop… drip-drop… drip… drip… drip… no more. The tears stopped falling. Deafening silence settled around him and nothing of the mortal world could penetrate the bubble of thick, frightening stillness. Cloud felt his heart increasingly hammering against his ribcage, threatening to break through as this creeping inertia came over him to taint the peace out of his mind once again. Cloud was trying to gain control over his stolen breath, but to no avail. Immobilized with dread, he watched as the ghosts of his past, abominations of Nature, breached the mortal dimension and called for him with shivering whispers that would ring in his ears as delicate chinks long after the end of the nightmares.

Trapped beneath the opaque liquid spreading over the table, a familiar face of another man took form, and even though the details of the features could not be discerned, Cloud recognized the relief protruding from the surface. The blond warrior was trapped in a hypnotic state by the pulsating white flesh before him. It was reaching through the cover of milk as if it had been a living person breathing beneath a silk veil. It was the face of the one he had despised.

"Forgive me, brother," Cloud whispered as tears appeared in his eyes. The salty water was hot and burning his cheeks in streaks of lava as it ran down his face. "Forgive me, brother."

Repentance came too little too late, death had been delivered through odium; not from a heated war, but sprung from a hate-filled heart. Cloud's heart. Kadaj had slipped into the Lifestream; in repentance of faith, repentance of hope, repentance of hate. It had not been his war at all, yet he paid the price. The price of Sephiroth's sin, and though the air was still outside, the ether inside Cloud's head was vibrating to the thumping of Soldiers marching on.

"On your feet!" resounded between the swaying walls and crisis was at hand as the ceiling dissolved into a boiling silver sea of despair in which a young child was drowning. Cloud lifted his head, watching the child as he fought to keep himself afloat in the heavy sea that drew him in like a hungry beast. Born from stillness, the ripples and waves advanced towards the child, moving with the edge of Masamune, brushing gently against the toddler and slashing his little body with gentle strokes; sadism in the kindness of a gentle touch.

The face of the child was stale and expressionless, his tormented eyes etched into the brain of the blond, settling there to become a part of his reality. The silver haired little boy fought bravely against the dread he faced, but quite soon his arms were turning numb and his muscles were aching with fatigue; the battle was unfair. Instincts told him to fight and to keep afloat, but each movement stirred a blinding white glow into the sea, like the fragile crust of molten rock bursting open for the lava to pour out of the wound.

Cloud sensed increasing heat against his skin as his body floated off the ground. The molten sea was becoming increasingly lively as if it had a life of its own. Heat rising, devouring space. Scorching steam escaped from the effervescent surface, coiling around Cloud like a parasitic vine and reaching inside every crevice of his body. He was overwhelmed by the ache from the cramps destroying him from within with violent onslaught, the dread of suffocation and his lungs shrivelled under the implosion of his chest as if it had been him drowning in boiling metal. He couldn't tear his eyes from the child.

The skin of the child was scalded and burned and his eyes were widened with the dread that raped his soul. Each movement he made ripped the skin wide open to expose the hurt that was coursing through his body. The head on the table started mourning in the weeping of a grown man, partly muffled by the wrapping of the veil that allowed only for whimpers of shame to reach daylight.

"On your feet soldier!" the child shrieked in concordance with the tortured face that had bled through the heavily wrapped veils and soiled the milk with blackness that was spreading in a mesh of veins and tendrils over the table; growing like cancer and infesting Cloud's mind with obsessions.

"Crisis at hand! On your feet soldier!"

Instinctively, Cloud reached towards the child as it disappeared beneath the surface of the steaming ceiling. There was no up or down anymore, there was no order, there was only chaos around him. As Cloud pushed his fists against the rippled surface, the blank metal sea turned into a crypt of needles and splinters of sharp slivers and shrapnels, jutting beyond the surface and causing him so much pain that he was forced to pull away. He made another attempt, slashing his own fists over and over, breaching the surface of knives and daggers, but he could not feel the child anymore. He was screaming, calling, swallowing his pain and shedding blood to save the toddler, but to no avail. It was futile. He had failed before… and he was failing yet again. Once he removed his hands, the child surfaced, face covered in deep cuts.

"See me!" the child screamed and reached out for Cloud, but the blond only responded with a wordless shake of the head.

His denial boosted the violent battle within, but he knew that no matter how badly he wished to save the child, he was doomed to fail. Guilt was fettering him, and Fear was pushing him down and turning him into a witness encased in a helpless state.

"They are hurting me!" the boy cried and held out his slit wrists.

Cloud focused his feverish eyes on the gaping slashes on the little arms and spoke as calmingly as he could manage.

"It won't take long now. Shh. Just be still, it won't take long now…"

"Please, make them stop!" the little one begged, at first with a humble plea, but then his voice grew steadily into a piercing shriek. "Make them stop, make them stop, make them stop, make them stop…!"

Powerlessly, Cloud witnessed as the slivers and knives dug under the crusted, burnt skin of the child, scratching and cutting the aching sores and turning a tortured body into an open wound. The pain and screams of the child were unbearable to the point where Cloud broke free from his bonds only to cover his ears, defiantly and demonstratively refusing to be part of the nightmares that haunted him.

"Shut up!" echoed inside the head of the blond. "Just shut up! Leave me alone! Just shut up! Shut up!"

The plea in the eyes of the child was unmistakable as he ripped his own tongue out at the root in agony, suffocating his own desperate cries for help and obeying Cloud's command as with so many others before him. The wrapped face under the veil wept with abandonment until the boy dissolved into those drops of blood remaining on the surface of the splinters and blades; then suddenly, everything went silent.

Cloud jolted and awoke to the sound of milk pelting against the floor. It was a dream… another nightmare of the tortured child without a voice. The tortured child without a voice.


	2. Rooting

**ROOTING**

Rufus ShinRa, descendant and heir of the massive ShinRa Corporation that had been his father's legacy to the world. It was the most powerful entity ever built, reaching through every layer of society and providing the world with branches that made its political and financial influence felt everywhere. In public, it was the world's largest supplier of advanced technologies ranging from electrical power for the planet, to healthcare, to everyday science in the form of facility constructions and agricultural development. However, as the knowledge of extraterrestrial life grew and travel had been made possible to and from different worlds, investment was made in military technologies and genetic engineering to defend, to learn about and to sustain life; even in altered and improved specimens. This had generated massive profits that rooted a steady foundation into peoples' lives; unable to live without the ShinRa Corporation. But even the sturdiest oak trees can die from the roots and so had the ShinRa Corporation. Something had gone wrong. It was the Jenova project that had started the downfall.

The discovery of the ancient alien species that could turn soldiers into fearsome fighting machines capable of using the powers of the planet, taming the energies flowing through the core and using it to win legendary wars. Indeed, legendary wars gave rise to legendary warriors and one such warrior was Sephiroth. But even though legends survive through ages of man, they eventually ebb out as time erodes the fragile memory of the flesh. Sephiroth had been generated through a human mother inoculated with Jenova cells. They had given the child an unprecedented advantage in developing the Herculean abilities and properties he harboured. No other creation following him had been as successful. He was the Soldier of all soldiers; a front figure representing the power and magnificence of the ShinRa Corporation. But his mind was as feeble as that of a simple human: it was misled and twisted into confusion by Jenova and lies.

Sephiroth was driven mad as his past was revealed by his discovery of Jenova at Nibelheim. He was presented with the tortures and lies of his past, never knowing he was part human, he was led to believe that he belonged nowhere… only in the presence of Jenova. He was HER son, no one else's. He could not be killed because the Lifestream did not accept him and Jenova had the power to have him lingering in limbo until the trinity of his powers in the shape of Kadaj, Yazoo and Loz, were summoned.

Rufus had planned for it, even tracked down and kept a piece of the 'Mother' securely encased as a biological sample in order to regenerate the most magnificent Soldier ever, but things did not go as planned. Once he had realized that there was no way of taming Sephiroth, Rufus had turned to Cloud and the rebels to bring the Soldier down. With only one third of his power intact, Sephiroth was defeated by Cloud and dissolved into a memory.

Rufus ShinRa sighed as he watched the numbers of floors pass by on the indicator above the elevator doors. He had about a hundred floors more to descend. Three hundred floors below ground was the location of the core facility of the newly seeding ShinRa Corporation. It had been destroyed once, well almost, but now it was rooting again. Behind him stood the company of four Turks, ready to defend him against any assault; his loyal bodyguards. They were silent and if it hadn't been for the notion that they were bodyguards, Rufus would have almost thought he was in the elevator alone.

Apart from protecting Rufus ShinRa, the Turks were a group that performed covert operations on behalf of their employer, including espionage, kidnappings and assassinations. When the old world was still standing they had also scouted for potential candidates for ShinRa's elite military unit. The group's full name was the Department of Administrative Research, but consisted nowadays only of Reno, Rude, Elena, and their leader Tseng. Though they mostly served as antagonists to all who rose against the ShinRa Corporation, they were not above forming temporary alliances to Cloud and the environmental rebels of the Avalanche.

Elena was their junior member and the only female. She was a high school student during the time her father was a teacher in the ShinRa Military Academy and following the footsteps of her older sister, she joined the Turks. Although it ruffled her feathers that her sister and the other member of the organization outperformed her in their status, Elena later obtained her position as the newest recruit after her colleague Reno sustained injuries battling the rebels in Midgar. Since then, the young lady had proven that she took her work much more seriously than her more laid back fellows. Finally, she had earned the respect she had fought for, but as befitted a Turk, she never revealed her pride of being accepted. Emotions were outside the scope of duty.

Reno was the most prominent member of the Turks, ranking directly below the current leader Tseng. He was characterised by his lanky physique and unkempt, red hair that terminated in a long ponytail, and an attitude, which was arrogant and cynical. However, he was highly skilled and took pride in his work and often added a humorous flavour to a serious situation alongside his sidekick and friend, Rude.

The contrast between the two was striking as Rude had more hair collected in his goatee as compared to what he had on his head. His brown eyes were always hidden behind sunglasses and he always carried a number of spare pairs with him. Even in this fairly dim elevator, he scanned the area around him behind the comfortable anonymity of black shades. But the odd couple suitably compensated one another in skills, as well as shortcomings. Hence, Rude was rarely seen without his long-time partner and was rather introverted, tending to delegate and leave the talking to Reno or Tseng.

Indeed, Tseng was stern, but polite and calm; the leader of the remaining Turks. His long, black hair was always properly groomed and cleared from his forehead on which he carried a tilak; a gift and heritage from a mother devoted to the goodness of Titan. She had longed for a child for years, praying to the God of the earth and fertility every morning as the sun rose beyond the mountains. She would bow to the sun and kiss the ground until one day, before her ability to carry a child ebbed out she gave birth to a son. The only one, her only child. He was a gift and thus, he would forever be honouring the God seeding his life. However, Tseng never spoke of his past and most of it was an enigma to all those surrounding him. In fact, Tseng was exceptional in all he did.

Already at a tender age, he had been an active member of the Turks and served under the wing of legendary leaders. Over the years, many good lessons, but also brutal awakenings had shaped his view and determination with which he led the Turks today; with fierce loyalty to the hand that fed them. As with most people on Gaea, Tseng had suffered his share of Sephiroth's rage when wounded by the General during an investigation of the Temple of the Ancients. After a difficult recovery he had gone back to work, and on his first major assignment, to retrieve Jenova's remains from the Northern Crater since the temple, Kadaj and his brothers took Tseng and Elena captive.

After enduring torture by the hands of Kadaj and Yazoo in particular, the two Turks were rescued by Vincent. Yes, no matter which way one turned, Sephiroth and spawns like him were haunting the memories of people. And thus, there were reasons to build up the corporation again.

But although the face of the company above ground had already reclaimed the lead position as the sole provider of people's needs, there was more to the core facility than agriculture, healthcare and safety. The insatiable hunger for power was an immense driving force, which through years of organization in the shadows of the everyday life, had managed to re-establish the foundation it was once built upon. But the soul of the corporation was still, and would always remain off-limits to the Turks; it was ShinRa policy since Rufus had concluded from the lessons of the fallen era that the fewer people who knew about the workings of the company, the more tangible its longevity.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened, but only the flaxen haired chief executive stepped out. He continued on towards a set of pressure-sealed doors, leaving the bodyguards behind. He tapped in a familiar code and a bright, sterile environment revealed itself in heated mist and eerie hissing. A familiar face, carrying the characteristic lines and worn features of a bitter man, greeted the heir with a;

"Good morning, master ShinRa."

Rufus responded with a slight smile befitting someone of his position and greeted the old man.

"Good morning, Professor Hojo."

Without further ado, the executive leader asked for a debriefing on the results of the current project.

Rufus listened to the scientist while they strolled through connective corridors lined with passageways to numerous laboratories and administrative offices, whose directions were displayed on digital screens that provided holographic projections of facility maps. The halls were lit with tamed daylight so as to provide the workers beneath ground with the essential radiance of the sun. Walls were decorated with windows projecting images of outdoor environments to counteract depression and the feeling of being trapped. Channels of light were directed to recreational rooms designed as parks to give the employees an opportunity to take a relaxing stroll or perhaps jog with the dog after the exhausting day at work. The corporation was living again.

"The preserved blood samples taken from the child have been successfully restored to the original host. By observing the dynamic imprinting on the genome, we managed to distinguish what was from Jenova and what was human. There were subtle changes in base-modifications that were exclusively hers. The modifications were fantastic. They allowed for the genetic material to function as if it had eight bases, twice as ours, making them vastly more dense with information. When we found out which ones were hers, it was easy to extract them," Hojo said triumphantly.

"Interestingly, each and every cell of Jenova has the ability to store the memory of an individual and no matter how many times it is passed on, it will remain faithful to its origin. You see, when human primary cells exceed a certain number of passages, they senesce and eventually, if continuously provoked or acquire damage, the cells transform and become more malignant and resemble cancer cells. Those cannot grow in a specific order, but rather in a lump of cells, a tumor if you will. The Jenova cells, however, remain like stem cells no matter how many passages they go through. This can be used for an incredible purpose, master ShinRa. We have not thought of it before, but you will be amazed."

"Which is?" Rufus stopped and looked at Hojo.

"Sometimes when an equation doesn't add up in the end, it is better to start at the end and work backwards," the projected image of Hojo explained.

His mind was ever as sharp as it had been when it was in his body and his eyes flashed with that malevolent soul that was trapped in the digital world.

"Let us take a step into the gestation chamber."

With the hissing of the releasing airlocks a doorway to a narrow passageway was revealed behind rigorous computerized safety. The main computer identified both men and a disinfectant mist washed over Rufus before it isolated the tiny connective corridor and allowed the inner set of doors to be unlocked. The brightness in the passageway was dimmed and replaced by ultraviolet lighting whilst the massive, steel entrance opened soundlessly. The mist from the gestation chamber poured into the passageway and reflected off the ultraviolet lighting resembling a ghostly veil dancing in an ethereal display, fleetingly before the eyes of mortals. Rufus felt a shiver down his spine and his heart beat faster as he gathered strength to obey Hojo's encouragements to advance forward.

Slowly, Rufus stepped inside the darkness and once the chamber was sealed, subtle lighting revealed a marvellous world of spherical cocoons of crystal clear liquid, hovering in their thousands in an order resembling a bee hive. Advanced technology monitored every heartbeat and breath of the growing fetuses, whilst wires and tubing provided the biological lives with the essentials they needed to develop. Rufus was amazed and gapingly kept on staring at the future ShinRa army; he was most pleased.

"You see, master ShinRa, previously we endeavored to culture humans that we implanted with the Jenova cells, recruiting them into our ranks," Hojo began in a soft murmur so not to disturb the sensitive dwelling of the Soldiers. "But now, we've managed to splice a part of Jenova's genes into empty, human oocytes, which subsequently adopt a feature akin to that of Jenova's original cells. These were then fertilized with the traits taken from our 'intermediate', who is a descendant of Jenova, although far back and indirectly. This makes the fetuses far less frail than humans with tremendous physique. Human minds are feeble and can easily be destroyed, hence Sephiroth's destruction, but a stable mind and body like that of Jenova, tamed through human influence, is much more reliable. So basically, we take Jenova-like cells and implant them with semi-human traits."

"Are they really superior in mind, professor? That can be a problem, you know. Too much intelligence can lead to defiance."

"Well," Hojo chuckled, "I guess calling them intelligent is stretching the truth a little. These creatures will never read poems or create art, or work in a laboratory, but they can lock themselves onto a target and never give up. Like weapons."

"Easily managed, automated weapons, you mean."

Hojo bowed to the statement, continuing. "The second generation is successful and is ready to be harvested within a few days. Previously, the Jenova cells were too powerful and had in many instances abandoned the surrounding, foreign environment, creating its own microenvironment in vacuoles that collapsed cellular functions and killed the cells. It can distinguish between what is original and what is foreign. However, with this 'intermediate'," the professor pointed to an immaculately pale body of masculine power lying limp and in comatose on life-support, "we can and have achieved milestones in research."

"Please explain," Rufus asked kindly.

"The cells within this one are already a viable combination of Jenova and human heritage… it goes way back… and not as pure as that which belonged to my son, Sephiroth… but close enough to harbour a platform for both traits to meet. See,the traits of Jenova serve the paradigm onto which all inflected forms are based… on a single stem. And so, with this one, we can bypass the rejection state and create the new world; hence, him being a suitable donor to fertilize the oocytes. But the most triumphant achievement has been to isolate the essence of the quinitnity and harvest it to infuse the fetuses - to enhance them."

"Is that a similar process to that which was conducted to enhance Soldiers with Mako during my father's time?"

"Yes, similar so, young Master, but I use only the trinity for the Soliders. The fourth object is far too precious for that. It has a much grander purpose and one that will change the course of this world as well as to abolish the detriment of your desire."

"Fantastic, Professor," Rufus flashed the projection a vicious smile. "You have certainly outdone yourself. Absolutely outstanding! Commence training as soon as possible."

* * *

Vincent was sitting in the bar where Tifa was attending some guests who had just ordered something to eat. She told them she could only arrange snacks to accompany the beer, as the kitchen had not yet started up for the evening. It was too early still and apart from a few regulars, people had not yet finished their work. Tifa's bar was an after-work hideout for many customers who went there to eat, but that was usually after five in the afternoon. It was now merely three. Of course, Vincent's current job offered him a kind of freedom that not many occupations did. He was a 'Hunter'; meaning he was a gun for hire to hunt down the monstrous fiends emerging from the dark cities where they resided after Hojo's experiments had been terminated. They were relics of the past that had bred uncontrollably with nature and each other, and were plaguing smaller towns and villages.

Vincent hid his face in the collar of his mantle as he waited for Tifa to finish her chores. When she returned, they sat down at a secluded table to take a drink in private. Vincent watched the silent expression of the girl who was indifferent to that black lock that stubbornly shaded her face. She looked tired and worn, obviously due to a lack of sleep and of inner tranquillity. Vincent remarked at her condition to which she unwillingly opened up with a deep sigh that carried the words out of her chest.

"His nightmares are getting worse and worse. It's draining the life out of him," the girl complained. "He's not there anymore, Vincent. Not even when we…"

She paused as he lowered his gaze and buried it in the glass of cranberry juice beneath his face. He couldn't find words to respond to her but he didn't need to for she kept on talking.

"He never talks to me about what disturbs him, but not much can make Cloud jump out of the bed screaming like a madman. He had once told me about a child. He had said something about the boy not having a voice and drowning in needles and knives."

She shook her head explaining that it made no sense; not to her and not to Cloud either. Vincent knew exactly what she was referring to, but he, on the other hand, kept silent through the entire time. When Tifa ran out of words and the will to continue with her monologue, Vincent took a sip from his drink and submerged himself in his thoughts before he spoke. His red eyes flashed behind the curtain of raven hair as he lifted his gaze; both his hands enclosed around the glass as if he aimed to heat the drink he was holding.

"Look, Tifa," Vincent started with a smooth, deep voice. "I don't want to burden you even more, but right now it's better to leave the questions aside and just support him. I think he needs you now." The Daemon host finished his drink and stood up, leaving Tifa with some words of advice. "Please don't make it harder than it is. Just be with him."

With that last piece of advice, Vincent left the bar. He contemplated using the force of Chaos to arrive faster to the private mews that he now called home, but it remained nothing other than a thought. The small village that embraced him with calmness had since long given up chocobo farming as a source of income, and so the streets were lined with stables that had recently been converted into housing, which added an undeniable, picturesque charm to the development. Consequently, he decided to walk. The road home would take a long time, but Vincent had the company of the anguish that followed every step of the way… always.

It was difficult to rid himself of emotions, even the irksome galling his soul, since those were the only remnants anchoring him to his past as a human, as someone's son, as someone, as Vincent Valentine. Where were all those years, all those years that had passed by, all those decades migrating along shifting entropy and solely in one direction. Vincent glanced up at velvety sky, which was gradually darkening, along with his wistful thoughts, as the dusk was setting. The lone man hardly even noticed that somewhere along the dusty roads he was joined by the great sentient, Nanaki. They said nothing, just enjoyed the stillness of the approaching dusk. They had the sun setting behind and the shadows cast before them were growing longer and longer as the golden disc sunk behind the concrete jungle of Midgar.

Since the ending of the war, Nanaki and Vincent had joined forces to hunt remaining relics, whilst enjoying the undemanding relationship of one another and the space of freedom it provided. Nanaki walked silently next to Vincent as they moved along the vast streets, advancing through the city underneath the blinking streetlights, showered by the awaking stars and moving over the rocky dunes of the town-outskirts towards the little mews where both had found refuge. Their steps vanished behind, in the past where the remnants of the sun still cast a few rays against the evening dome, and ahead of them was darkness, just like the future. Finally, they had reached home. Vincent stopped for a swift moment and inhaled the pleasant freshness of the night; his eyes resting upon the moon at its zenith in the black skies.

"There is a halo around the moon," Nanaki pointed out.

Indeed, the moon was surrounded by a crystalline halo and in ancient times such a sight was considered a premonition of something dangerous approaching. Vincent agreed.

"I think there is something in the air," the sentient being continued with his deep animal-like vocalization. "I sense change is coming."

Vincent nodded again and then lowered his head, retracting it behind the collar of the mantle, the way he always did when brooding, and motioned for Nanaki to follow him inside. The feline creature, however, politely declined and explained he would spend a few more minutes outside alone. As a person well aware of the need for solitude, Vincent did not argue, and left his friend, bidding him good night.

Minutes passed into hours and quite soon, stillness settled upon the blackening skies. The vine of the night was climbing higher on the pillar of the day, overpowering it with obscurity until no more light was raining through the skies. It was only the drops of a dissolved boy that floated through the heavens and congealed in a body of white. He was lifelessly pale in the dark corner of the room, but the veins under the marble skin were squirming like dark worms encasing his frame in a mesh of blackness that coursed inside his body. Fade… they would be made to fade if his name was spoken and acknowledged with forgiveness. It only needed a little whisper to ease the pain, but he was lost in the beyond where the gates were closed to the emotions he needed in order to be saved.

Vincent awoke to alien sounds of scratching increasing in intensity from the darkest corner of the room. Time was spinning in uneven events as a fluorescently white creature appeared squatting with its face hidden in the angles of the walls. The creature was moving in incoherent, jerky motions as if the essence of space and time had detached from each other and moved in differing paces. The creature hidden in the obscure corner was ferociously scratching the wall and as Vincent's eyes quickly became accustomed to the darkness he saw the body of a young man squatting, trying to claw his way through the structure like a frightened animal.

Gathering his strength and courage, Vincent got out of bed and slowly approached the ghostly silhouette in the corner. Discretely, he pulled out Cerberus from under his covers; he always slept with a gun close at hand. His heart was pounding violently in his chest almost to the point where it was difficult to breathe, but he continued his quest. He uttered a careful question.

"Who are you?"

The scratching immediately stopped and the figure froze like a startled animal attentively observing a sudden change in the environment. Vincent crept closer and as his eyes adjusted to the darkness even further, he could clearly discern the shape of a naked human body huddling up in the corner and slowly turning around.

"Who are you?" Vincent repeated and as a response agonized sobbing filled the vicinity surrounding him.

It was the sobbing of a child yet what he saw was the body of a mature man. The impressions perceived by his senses were conflicting and confusing and thus weakening the gate of flesh that was slowly beginning to give way for the Daemon pressing against the boundaries of the human body. However, Vincent had to maintain control, for no matter who this young man could be, he was obviously in pain or hurt and he would be startled by the presence of Chaos. No! The Daemon must not surface. Vincent swallowed his fear and posed another careful question.

"How did you get in here?"

Silence.

It really troubled Vincent that someone managed to sneak past him and into his private sanctuary without him sensing it. This had never happened before and thus he took another step towards this young man. The sable hair of the frightened stranger was hanging like a drape before the face and an inhuman growl escaped the visitor as Vincent stepped closer. It made him immediately halt. After a while of futile communication, a slight flicker of anger sparked within Vincent and he approached the stranger once again, this time with a steady voice, whilst feeling the weight of Cerberus he held behind his back.

"How did you get in here?"

Suddenly, the young man started moving again, hitting the back of his head against the wall as he spoke to the rhythm of the blunt thud of bone against stone. In a series of echoing whispers enigmatic messages were floating from the pale stranger.

"Dark bodies emerging from torn wombs, no light or life… I am imprisoned in a world, robbed of memory of what was. Cut from the womb where I sparked into life and I dissolved into isolation. I remember myself floating, flying" the young man set forth in a breathy chant. "I am so close to the edge of the skies and I keep on climbing higher and higher to touch the sun."

In an unexpected change of the course of actions, the stranger made a move, and like a frightened doe, he cautiously crept into the light of the moon. When he was at Vincent's feet, he slowly reached out and embraced the gunman's legs, clutching them close to that trembling, pale body. The shivers of the stranger were so intense that it set Vincent into motion and he went down on his knees to join the frightened man on the floor. The telltale moonlight revealed that the sable hair was all but dark and the chill that ran right through Vincent made his blood turn to liquid ice. Could this be? He watched the pale light merge with the silver shimmer in those thick strands of hair; dirty, oily and split.

"Sephiroth?" Vincent gasped with obvious fear.

The young man responded with a whimper. "I tried to climb closer to the sun… but the brightness scourged my eyes."

With a sudden jerk the ghostly shadow of Sephiroth threw the horrid image of his distorted face into view and exposed the black, scourged sockets of his hollow eyes. Vincent involuntarily reacted with dread and attempted to escape, but the ghost overpowered him and pinned him to the floor. At that instant Vincent noticed that Sephiroth's nails had been scratched down to the beds, fingertips bleeding and filled with splinters. The hollow sockets of his eyes were wet with blackness pouring out like unholy grails being emptied. The smell around him was of putrid flesh, like a rotting corpse.

"I fell from the sky like a meteor and I saw my own destruction. My life was so dark... my mind was so dark... everything is dark… please, help me."

Vincent closed his eyes, internally trying to summon Chaos but he was ever so silent. Why wasn't he emerging now? What kind of powers kept Chaos in hibernation at a moment like this? Vincent felt the weight of the cold body straddling his chest and as he opened his eyes he saw the angel reaching towards the moonlight entreating the mortal world for deliverance he so desperately sought. The veins beneath his skin moved like living organisms and his ribs were visibly protruding underneath his sickly greyish skin. Suddenly, he froze and scanned the surroundings with his empty eyes. Black mass was beginning to pour down his face and mouth again as he began weeping.

"Do you hear?" Sephiroth asked repeatedly. "Do you hear? It's here to get me… to get you."

Vincent listened as hard as he managed, but there was nothing but silence surrounding them. He could see the decaying heart of the pale body beat behind the ribs and hammer against the breastbone. The angel started shivering and covered his face with his wounded hands, as he ever so slowly lowered his body and rested on top of Vincent. The warrior was immobilized by the cold that exuded from Sephiroth and was helplessly drawn into holding the decaying corpse close, although his own conscience protested in a violent storm that stirred Chaos from within. Still the Daemon was unable to break free, just like Vincent was unable to break the embrace. The cold face was buried in the curve of Vincent's neck, whispering warnings of a dream, preaching about 'dark bodies floating in darkness'.

Suddenly the pale body was ripped from Vincent and slammed violently into the corner from where it had emerged. Sephiroth was fighting against something that no mortal could see and Vincent felt sick to his stomach, hating to see this nightmare and not being able to help. He witnessed the pain, he witnessed the fear and as the body began burning, the final plea of a ravaged young man who wished for nothing higher than deliverance soaked into his soul. The choking smell of burnt flesh filled Vincent's senses, overwhelming him, and he threw up in his sleep awakening to the sour stench of his vomit saturating the pillow.

Nanaki was standing beside him and called his name until he found his way through the darkness into the comfort of the known world. Vincent jumped out of bed, stumbling over the covers that had coiled around his feet during his nocturnal turmoil. He was visibly disoriented and confused and incoherently repeated Sephiroth's name. Vincent turned a few times in his room and Nanaki kept on asking what he was looking for. The fifth time he turned, Vincent remained frozen facing a specific corner of the room. The dread that reflected off his face was unmistakable and Nanaki shook his head denying the fact presented before him. The wall was marked with scratch marks and blood, depicting a message from the other side.

"Make them stop… make them stop."


	3. Greybone

**GREYBONE**

Fenrir's tires were screeching loudly as Cloud put the bike into a higher gear, roughly burning the rubber. It was late and the sun had already sunk behind the horizon and he wanted to get home as quickly as possible. Tifa had made a nice dinner and was awaiting Cloud, but at her request he had promised to pick up some freshly baked bread from the bakery across town. This delayed him a bit as the baker was overwhelmed with customers and he was finished an hour later than planned. As an apology, the baker, Mr. Lockley, threw a few extra cinnamon rolls into the bag and sent Cloud off with a friendly pat on the back.

Indeed, the boy had been delivering his products to customers when the ordinary delivery boy, Mr. Lockley's nephew, was for some reason hindered and unable to do his duties. Cloud didn't mind though, for Mr. Lockley's bakery was the best in Midgar and even ShinRa was known to send the Turks to pick up a weekly supply of poppy seed pastries. And due to the gentle character of this old man, not even the shady creatures from the opposite side of the law would deprive him of his earnings in any indecent manner. Everyone paid Mr. Lockley and everyone indulged in his products; even Sephiroth.

Cloud released an inadvertent smile as he remembered a boy's-night-out that ended in Mr. Lockley's bakery. They had been a group of five mischievous youngsters from the Soldier Academy who had been craving for something to eat after the bars closed close to the morning hours. Mr. Lockley opened his bakery very early when most people were still asleep, since it took him quite some time to prepare the goods ordered by the customers and to fill up his shelves with those lovely masterpieces. The good-hearted man let the drunken, singing youngsters into the store and gave them sandwiches to soak up the remaining alcohol in their stomachs and to prevent their foolish brains from completely bobbing in liquor. They had seated themselves at the few tables and chairs inside the modest, little bakery, and kept on chanting as could be expected by such juvenile cadets; looking all cool, though actually rather silly, in their sunglasses at dusk.

At that early hour, the group of loud cadets were surprised to find the great general, Sephiroth, enter the store. As Cloud remembered it, Sephiroth was equally surprised to find the cadets there. He said nothing but walked calmly to the counter where Mr. Lockley handed a box of freshly baked cream cakes over to him with the words; "Your usual six as always, my little lad."

'My little lad.' Cloud could never forget that. It was in some way quite charming, for at that moment and filtered through that benevolent set of words, Sephiroth seemed ever so human. Yes, he too could be someone's little lad, someone's son or brother. Sephiroth had smiled back at Mr. Lockley and paid for his daily portion of cream cakes. Cloud had never before seen Sephiroth smile, other than to scoff or with some smug expression reflecting off his face, but nothing as lovely and warm as that morning. And he paid – PAID – like a normal human being. The blond recalled how all the cadets went quiet not knowing if they were hallucinating from the alcohol or if it was real.

Sephiroth had walked up to them and said; "You know what to do, don't you?"

Cloud nodded agreeing on behalf of the entire group to keep their mouth shut about Sephiroth's simple, little pleasures for fear of retribution in the form of harder training. He had flown up from his seat loudly confirming, 'Sir, yes, Sir!' to which Sephiroth twisted his lips into a divine smile and removed Cloud's sunglasses to dive into his teal, flickering gaze.

"You are one funny little guy, Cadet Strife," Sephiroth uttered with his deep seductive voice, whilst folding the glasses with one hand and handing them back to the blond.

Sephiroth had stepped closer and placed a strong hand on Cloud's chin, raising the face towards his own and attentively studying the smooth, juvenile features. Sephiroth had just taken his morning shower, for Cloud felt the fragrance of that masculine cologne nestle into his head and mesmerize him. It was an exquisite scent that in contrast to the pale skin colored the senses with a fruity hint and a spicy blend of fragrances. It was seductive and suited Sephiroth perfectly, for it drew Cloud close to the General in a way he had never previously experienced in the presence of a man. It was as alluring as it was dangerous, just as Sephiroth was himself.

It was the first time Cloud had noticed that the dark angel was all but colorless in his persona and physical appearance. Ribbons of color were radiating through those deep cyan wells, little freckles on the bridge of the nose added an enchanting character to the otherwise blunt face, and the arch of the eyebrows showed tiny imperfections of a few brown strands of hair lost in a bed of silver. However, those tiny flaws in the appearance of the seraph only made him more perfect and complete in the eyes of an idolizing boy.

"…Cadet Strife."

Cloud sighed. Sephiroth had remembered his name. From a group of thousands, he remembered Cadet Strife who was now resting his chin in a strong hand, thumb playfully pinching the trembling jaw. He was lost for words and remained standing hypnotized by the very man he worshiped as the greatest Soldier ever. He was caught in the aura of the powerful angel and could no longer pull away…

Fenrir caught speed, hands boosting the power…

A smooth tongue travelled across the finely shaped lips that often spewed hatred and demands…

The wind was howling in his ears as he rode through the darkness….

Cloud remembered the scent that filled his head with lust…

The ground was whipped into dust under the spinning wheels…

Cloud remembered the world dissolving around him into a mist of nothingness…

Fenrir swallowed the road with ravenous hunger, feeding his way through the night on a well-known path…

Cloud remembered the spark in those eyes…

The spark that unawares appeared before his eyes; a silver ray of light hit his retina and stung his sockets like needles. Cloud lost control over Fenrir, the vehicle started wobbling and just like a wild stallion it threw the young man off its back, crashing him into the dusty ground. Cloud could only concentrate on relaxing his body in order not to break his bones. It all happened so quickly that he had not even had the slightest chance to react or reflect over the dangerous situation he was caught in. Speeding on a dusty road was a perilous mistake and staring towards the darkened sky, he could merely sigh with relief knowing he was still alive.

"By all the Gods," Cloud panted and lay motionless on the ground. His mind was completely blank and couldn't even remember what it was that had made him speed so insanely.

Slowly he gathered strength and dusted his clothes off whilst getting up from the ground. He staggered towards Fenrir, wheels still spinning and engine growling with a deep murmur. With great effort he lifted the heavy motorbike to an upright position. Like a concerned friend, Cloud circled the bike a few times, examining it for any major damage. When assured that there was nothing more severe than dents and scratches in the metal, which could be beaten and polished out, he turned the engine off and scanned his surroundings for the blinding light that had caused this accident. He saw the marks on this road, witness of the potentially deadly event. What he saw set his mind into conflict and confusion seeing tiny paw prints in the sand near the road. He followed the set of prints to a nearby pile of rocks revealing that the perpetrator was hiding somewhere near.

"Where are you, you little shit?" Cloud growled with anger and fatigue.

His body was still high on adrenaline, but it was draining him quickly of the anger he was fighting to keep alive in order to obtain revenge. His thoughts of retribution were however, defeated by the slight whimper of a shivering bundle of fur, hiding in a crevice in the rocks. A small cat was staring back at him. Cloud frowned and took pity noticing the starved little frame and dusty fur. The tone of his voice changed in an instant.

"Shh, it's all right, kitty. I won't hurt you," the blond began soothingly whilst trying to find a way to reach inside the tiny cave to pull the cat out.

By the looks of the cat, it had been roaming the desert for a while and obviously starving for some time, and thus leaving it there would mean certain death for the poor animal. Although this unforeseen meeting nearly sent Cloud into a painful death, he didn't have the heart to leave the cat behind.

"Come 'ere little friend," Cloud called and when the cat had stuck out its nose with curiosity, the blond took the chance to grab the animal by the neck and pull it out.

The brutal tactic was not entirely appreciated and not without a clear demonstration of anger, hurt, fear and vicious hisses. No matter, Cloud allowed for the cat to wriggle and battle itself into fatigue to the point where he could calmly clutch the animal into his arms and head home. He knew his delay would bring acrimony as this last year had certainly brought out the disjunction between the couple, but at least he had a valid reason for being late this time.

Nonetheless, Tifa was fuming. Cloud was two hours late and the food had gone cold. Their relationship was in crisis and she had made an effort to bring them closer with a nice dinner and a relaxing evening together, and the scoundrel blond had not even respected her wish to at least be home on time. When the rumble of Fenrir announced Cloud's arrival, Tifa rushed outside, words of anger boiling in her throat just waiting to be released with force. But as she saw the torn appearance of her beloved Cloud the frustration dissolved into the motherly care she expressed.

"Oh sweet Shiva, what has happened to you?" Tifa burst with genuine worry, tears flooding her eyes as she removed the bag of groceries from Cloud's hand.

He was tightly clutching one arm to his chest and she was worried he was seriously injured. She made several attempts to offer him assistance, but to her great frustration Cloud was keeping a distance.

"Don't worry, Tifa. I'm fine… let's just go inside."

Though Tifa was eager and anxious to know what went wrong, she knew by experience that there was no rushing Cloud. He needed to deal with things in a specific order and so she patiently waited him out.

Safely inside the house, Cloud seated Tifa at the kitchen table and revealed the secret hidden behind his closed embrace. A furry, little head peeked out and greeted the world with a meek meow, whilst blinking at her with beautiful blue eyes.

"How adorable," Tifa smiled and reached for the cat.

Drained of strength and feistiness it made no resistance in the arms of the mistress, being cosseted with gentle strokes along the fragile body.

"My goodness, he's so skinny," the young woman continued and almost like a mother, her primary concern shifted towards the starving, little substitute of a child. "I have some cream in the fridge; you think he will like it?"

Cloud smiled and nodded in return. He loved the caring side of Tifa, but a big part of him was not ready for that kind of world. He had no desire for a family. He was a Soldier and the group was his family and the battle was his life. He wasn't ready; he needed something else in life. His restless spirit could not be tied to one and his relationship with Aeris and some female cadets at the Academy spoke of this shifting desire. Tifa deserved better… someone else. Cloud jolted at the thought and shook his head. It was the first time these thoughts have stirred in his mind and thus he dismissed them as confused ideas of an exhausted soul. No, he was imagining things.

The cat lapped up the cream with large gulps and happily dug its nose into the bits of meat Tifa had prepared. The tiny squares of salami and chicken leftovers were quickly swallowed until the tiny belly was hanging heavily beneath the bony frame. Though left in the desert for months the cat retained an instinctive set of mannerisms and expressed his gratitude by brushing against the legs of the mistress and following her footsteps like loyal companion.

"So what should we call him?" Tifa asked and bent down to pick up the bundle of fur from the floor.

"I don't know," Cloud shrugged and reached across the table to touch the tiny nose.

The cat sniffed his fingers, trying to identify the scent, and gave him a slight lick. The sweat and dirt on the master's hands, however, were far less pleasant to the taste than the meal he just received, and thus the cat withdrew its head. The mistress was cleaner.

"Well," Tifa began spoiling her newfound toy with caresses and snuggles. "He is grey and he is very bony… so, how about Greybone?"

Cloud laughed out loud, but agreed for it was all that defined the cat in its appearance.

"It's a good name."

"Hello, Greybone," Tifa smiled and lifted the cat into proper view, noticing he was very dirty. "He needs a bath, Cloud. Just like you. So how about taking him into the shower?"

"Why me?" Cloud grumbled like a child, but Tifa countered him with a comment that defeated him fair and square.

"Because, he loves me now that I've fed him and I won't ruin my position by dragging him into water. You know how much cats hate that." She stuck out her tongue amusingly to tease Cloud and agreed to join him as soon as she cleaned up after the cat.

Stillness ascended upon the night as two lovers united under drops of crystal water, washing away the hurt, the anguish and the tension that kept them apart. Cloud devoured Tifa's kisses and pressed her against the tiled wall, hands gliding over firm breasts, caressing a smooth waist, buttocks filling his aching palms and senses searching confirmation of his actions. His fingers were probing sacred passages, surrounding himself with moisture and preparing his woman for the intrusion by his body. Tifa wrapped her legs around Cloud as he lifted her up and got out of the shower cubicle then delicately placed her on the cold ground, still united. Their skin was coming alive with the chill outside the spray of water, but the heat their bodies were exuding overshadowed any sensations. There was nothing but pleasure.

Lying on the floor, Cloud was exploring Tifa's body with all his senses and making her gasp for air as his busy tongue pushed over the borders of elation, sending ecstasy through every part of her being. With her hands cupped around his face, she pulled him closer and allowed him access into the depth of desire, rocking her world to the rhythm of his lovemaking. She closed her eyes as he buried his face in the curve of her neck, listening attentively to his heavy breathing.

A sound pierced through the air like a small dart directed to the core of his eardrums, and Cloud lifted his head. Under the cupboard beneath the sink, a pair of emeralds blinked back at him. Greybone was watching Cloud, boring himself into the master's mind and Cloud forgot about the real world. His movements became more pronounced and his gaze merged with that of the feline. Arms were wrapped around his neck, pulling Cloud close whilst a soft tongue was plundering his mouth. Cloud responded by drinking the kisses, and his body freely plunging into the receptive frame beneath.

"Cloud, what are you doing?" floated into the void in an unfamiliar tone, and as the blond distanced himself from the floor he was shocked by the image of Kadaj writhing with pleasure.

Panic ripped Cloud away from the seductive figure calling from the floor, but as the features of Tifa shifted through this dreamlike state, the flaxen haired man remained sitting on his heels and just staring. Without even the slightest evidence of uneasiness, Kadaj raised one foot, tracing the contours of Cloud's chest, moving upwards and shapely soft toes probing the surface of his lips. Shocked, but still aroused beyond his powers, Cloud released a spark of rage grabbing hold of the foot in front of his face. With a sweet smirk Kadaj kept on teasing the blond soldier by one slender, delicate hand wrapped possessively around an erect penis, and as the white foot touched the lips of the blond again, Cloud opened his mouth and nibbled gently on the big toe. It was fleshy and strong, yet soft and milky like that of a fairytale creature. Not a single flaw.

Cloud's adventures continued over the shins, whilst massaging the calves and with a trembling intake of breath he encouraged the masturbating youth to place the legs on his shoulders. In doing so, Kadaj exposed his swollen, little portal yearning to be violated by a forceful lover. He was wet and muscles were glistening with sweat and lubricant. Cloud watched his member slowly pressing against the tight muscle until it no longer could withstand the pressure and allowing the very head of the penis to slip inside. Kadaj frowned with pleasure, mouth slightly open and the tip of the tongue caught between a pearly set of teeth as he released an oily response saturated with elation.

"Take me, Cloud," he panted and the cat started purring.

The noise was filling the pulsating air as the universe closed in on them and wrapped the two boys into a cocoon of forbidden passion. The throbbing member was pulled half way out, the portal closely following the uneven surface and tightly clutching it in warmth. Cloud moaned and after a few samples of the desire awaiting him, he plunged into the game and allowed for the cat to enter his mind.

The night drifted into insanity. Their lovemaking was as wild as that of felines, hands digging, pulling and grabbing, hips thrusting and grinding, teeth anchoring into flesh, faces distorted with pleasure and a tinge of pain, until everything stopped for those few seconds of stillness before the universe came crashing down with the exhausting orgasm that rocked them both into bliss. Cloud was trying to catch his breath, head spinning and body trembling with the tension humming in every fibre of his muscles. Sweat was seeping through his skin and slowly his mind regained control of his heavy limbs. As he rolled onto his back, eyes still closed, he heard the voice of Tifa as she lay panting beside him.

"That was really, really unusual."

Though surprised and baffled by this sudden change in behavior, her voice was nonetheless encouraging as she went on.

"That was awesome, Cloud. You've never done that before… so wild."

Still no response and thus she moved up to him and rested over his chest with a satisfied smile.

"I hope you can do this again in the future."

The cat suddenly jumped out from underneath the cupboard, startling both lovers with his vicious little hiss before he disappeared outside the room.

"Has he been there all the time?" Tifa asked and brushed her fringe aside.

Cloud started laughing.

"I think he's never seen something like this before. I think he was shocked."

"I think he was jealous," Tifa added smilingly.

"Well, let's make him even more jealous," the blond suggested flirtatiously and wrapped his arms around her.

But behind her back, when her face was buried in the curve of his neck, Cloud was no longer smiling. His renewed attempt to play and engage in sexual games was merely to cover the shame he felt knowing he hadn't been with Tifa at all. He had given himself to Kadaj, kissed those pale lips and indulged in another man's body. There it was again; guilt. And this time, it was grinning viciously back at the blond.


	4. A Game of Cards

**A GAME OF CARDS**

Following dinner, Tseng was playing cards with his group of Turks since they had been relieved of duty for the rest of the day. Rufus ShinRa had decided to spend whatever time remained of the day in the secluded areas of the new facility. He had always been a person to take his duties with grave responsibility, but there was something behind the walls of the facility, not even the most trusted bodyguards were allowed to see and that made Tseng a bit uneasy. He was submerged in thought and hadn't noticed it was his turn to deal.

Unknown even to his closest friends, Tseng was a man with a depth that intertwined with loyalty as well as passion for what he deemed honest. He was a player for the side that was veiled in shadows but the true heart of this warrior was elusive and a mystery with a pure core that benefited only those he thought would earn the right to it. This was not ShinRa and none of his group members. His heart had loyalty for another, one that was no longer amongst them but his memory was still lingering on as a dangerous presence. And that presence had grown stronger during the past weeks, leading to disturbed dreams and restless nights. Thus as Tseng laid out the cards, he was no longer playing for the money or the respect there was to gain in this game of probable outcome. The numbers lead a dance he tried to interpret as an answer to his tainted heart. Tseng dealt the cards more as meditation and nothing revealed his inner thoughts. Thoughts on war was the only thing he could let through.

He threw in the clubs, their weapons of war, and increased the bet with his King of diamonds, but Tseng had his winning hand in the Ace of spades that they called the swords of a Soldier. And just as he had suspected, the final round of victory was his own. The Soldier had won.

Reno watched him from a distance and scoffed.

"Even with dark rings under your eyes, you don't miss a trick, do you?" Reno chuckled.

Tseng lifted his head whilst arranging the cards for a new deal, but halted for a swift second and took the Turk into scrutiny.

"What do you mean by that?"

Reno shrugged. "Well, you've obviously had problems sleeping lately. I mean the rings under your eyes look like badly applied eyeliner yet you never lose a single game despite the lack of sleep."

Tseng nodded and took a sip of his beer.

"Being tired is not the same thing as losing concentration."

"To a certain extent," Reno waved it off and just as he was about to continue his argument, Rude silenced the redhead with a cough seeing Tifa Lockhart entering the bar. Elena started smiling, because although Rude's sunglasses were reflecting the outside world, the awkward silence descending upon him whenever Tifa was near was unmistakable.

"Why don't you just ask her out?" Elena suggested, adding a slight tease to her tone of voice.

"Because she has Cloud," Rude grunted and was a bit defeated by the thought of never having a chance to gain access to Tifa's heart.

In his opinion she was a cute, little brunette who hardly reached to his chest, but sparkling with that charming attitude he adored. Well, he would no doubt treat her well and make her feel important. Indeed, though Rude was as his name implied, and, in addition, intimidating in size and strength, the soul behind the tough shell was ever so gentle. A misunderstood giant and he longed to expose his true self to that loud, little brunette who was chastising an employee who was late for work. It wasn't her style to be that agitated, and Rude could not help but wonder if she was having a bad day. Maybe he could ask her how she was doing? Or perhaps ask her to join him for dinner after work? No! No, that was stupid. Why would she want to have dinner with a brute, when she had that little blond everyone was so fond of?

'Cloud' Rude snorted internally. Yes, everyone was fond of him. He was a hero, the defeater of Sephiroth and everyone's little darling. Rude snorted again in his glass and placed it on the table with loud thud.

"Watch it big-guy," sounded from behind him and the friendly giant almost choked on his beer seeing Tifa pouting with discontent.

"Oh, I am sorry, Miss Lockhart," he mumbled dejectedly, "I didn't mean to be so careless."

Rude was apparently troubled by his behaviour, something, which amused the young brunette and she decided to let him off the hook as she placed a friendly hand on his shoulder.

"Look, I had a bad day… again," she emphasized rolling her eyes and went on whilst clearing the table of empty glasses and bottles. "Anything else you guys want?"

There was an awkward silence and the group of Turks were waiting for Rude to make a comment, but he seemed completely numb.

"I think Rude wants something," Elena began giggling, as befitting her childish attitude, but Tseng hushed her with a piercing look.

"Oh yeah?" Tifa added and turned to Rude. "Well?"

Rude was sitting still with face anchored to the table and battling fiercely with his preponderating and immobilizing shyness.

"Cat got your tongue?" Tseng finally asked and placed an order for a decent meal they would all have.

It was almost dinnertime anyway and they could spend a few more hours here, since they had nothing better to do. Tifa made a note of the order; beef, potatoes, fresh vegetables, garlic bread, more beer and apple pie for desert. Upon leaving, she halted midway and leaning against the back support of Rude's chair, she shared her story of Greybone.

"Speaking of cats, Cloud has a new toy. And I tell you I've never seen a cat so devoted to his master. It won't let him out of its sight, ever. In bed, in the bathroom, and when he leaves for work that cat goes completely crazy, scratching at the door and whining. At times I feel like kicking it out, but then he looks at me with those really big, green eyes and looks so sad I can't help but spoil him. Cute, although darn annoying at times."

"How's Cloud?" Elena threw in, whilst arranging her cards in a specific order.

Tifa shrugged and the corners of her mouth turned downwards slightly. "Oh, he's…" she began and halted in a way that made the group look back at her sensing the hidden message of discomfort in the background. "He's… busy… I guess. He has been sleeping very badly lately and he's… tired."

With that swift debriefing she left the company and went about her business of running the bar. Reno twisted a smile at Rude and patted him playfully on the back.

"Maybe this is your chance," he said, but the friendly giant didn't share the malicious joy of knowing Tifa's relationship was in distress.

"Maybe some other time," Rude sighed and concentrated on the game.

Tseng repeated the words inside his head, knowing there was something alarming behind this lack of sleep that seemed to trouble someone other than just him. Perhaps if he took a moment to speak to Cloud he could find out more. Would there be any reason for him to do so and how would he approach the young man? No, this could be just a coincidence and he would merely seem a fool bringing up such a personal subject with someone who is considered an enemy by the ShinRa Corporation. No, this was just his imagination. Tseng looked at the cards again.

Of all the people in this town, statistically, there were hundreds having sleepless nights at the same time. Besides, the dreams haunting Tseng were far more specific and frightening. Surely Cloud had no dreams of Angeal and Genesis; surely he was not tormented by seeing them strapped and hung upside-down in coiling barbwire, wings ripped out at the root and their feathers arranged in mystical inscriptions on the floor of the chamber where they were kept locked up. The chambers were filled with water. Tseng had been sure that the two men were dead, for their skin was peeling off the bodies, flaking with blisters as if a disease had ravaged them. Their faces were frozen in agony – staring out from the dirty water – pleading; every night – over and over – just pleading.

He saw them almost every night along with Yazoo; the graceful manifestation of Sephiroth's beauty. Tseng looked at the cards for a moment and lost himself in the image of the Knight of Hearts. Yazoo was there; he was there waiting every night when Tseng submerged in deep sleep. He was on his knees in front of the twin chambers, torso collapsed and the silver hair covering his head was resting against the shoulders like a delicate veil. His hair was so very different from that of Tseng who had inherited the coarse thickness of his mother's mane. Nonetheless, Yazoo had captivated him.

The silver Knight possessed an unparalleled beauty, but had a heart as cold as the glaciers in the northern parts outside Midgar. He guarded the Angels every night and read the inscriptions beneath their bodies over and over, rocking back and forth as if in a hypnotic trance. For the forth night in a row, Tseng had dared to approach Yazoo, but last night he had even dared to place a hand on the shoulders of the young man as he pulled him up from the floor. The events that took place after were still hidden in the depths of Tseng's mind, afraid to expose them during sunlight as if his very own private thoughts would be scrutinized in public if he dared to bring them about in his head.

The Knight of Hearts started trembling in his hands as sensations of Yazoo's petal soft lips lingered on his mouth. The gentle caress of the long fingers tracing Tseng's jaws and neck, the sweet, sweet smile that tamed every attempt at hatred, and the warm body that rested in Tseng's embrace until the alarm clock brought reality before his eyes. It was so unreal. He had never before given his desires to a man; not even blessed the thought of an opportunity with a sincere reflection. He remembered waking up with anger, utterly frustrated with himself and he was getting nauseous again. He had emptied his stomach in the toilet last night, reproaching his feeble mind for such debauched thoughts of a demon's spawn.

Yazoo and his brothers, Kadaj and Loz, had been created from the same seeds as Sephiroth and, therefore, deserved the same fate. Never before had the world encountered such violation of Nature's laws and there was no other option for the sake of the future than to destroy them all. Tseng threw the Knight onto the table, completing his victory of a full house with three knights and two aces. Yes, the three brothers and the two Angels. He shook his head again, but this time his actions brought about a series of questions from Reno.

"Man, are you all right? You look like you haven't slept for ages. I saw you today at the shooting track and you seemed to have lost some focus. Man, Rufus ain't gonna be glad to see you losing it. You want a few days off or somethin'?"

"I'm not losing it, Reno," Tseng muttered in response, "and I don't need time off. I just need to have something to do. I hate sitting still and waiting for nothing."

"I don't hate it," the redhead stated merrily. "In fact, I prefer having full salary for nothing."

"Yes, we all know your devotion to hard work, Reno-baby. Look, Rufus is busy with that darn project of his and there's nothing we can do about that, except wait for him to get his ass out of that hole in the ground," Elena pointed out and took another bite out of her meal. She wiped her mouth and picked up the cards to shuffle them into a new deal.

"Yeah," Reno added and took a piece of Elena's fried potatoes as he went on while chewing. "You should take this opportunity to relax, Tseng."

Tseng rolled his eyes, shaking his head; "I'm just not very comfortable about these weeks he's been spending down under. It's not like him to shut us completely outside of a project."

"For what it's worth, "Rude cut in, "I for one am glad not to be involved this time. It saves me from a lot of headaches."

"Yeah, well, I'm not convinced," Tseng countered and left his seat, excusing himself to the men's room.

"Are you going to have that?" Rude asked and pointed to the half eaten meal on the plate and happily dug into it when their leader shook his head in response. As opposed to Rude, Tseng had lost his appetite and needed to be alone for a little while.

"Man you have an appetite of a horse," Reno pointed out as he was struggling to help Elena finish her mammoth meal. "I still remember you, Barrett and Cid finishing off a whole chocobo at the Moon-festival five years ago."

"Mmm," Rude smiled at the thought of a succulent, roast chocobo and took another bite of the bread on which he had neatly placed a few fried potatoes and dipped it in gravy. "Those were the days."

"I like a man who's not fussy with food," Tifa announced as she arrived with another pitcher of beer. "You know Rude, it makes me hungry just to see you eat."

The friendly giant smiled behind his shades and demonstratively took another bite out of his odd sandwich. The brunette responded to his lovable manner with a pat on his shoulder before she left.

"Man, that's the second time," Reno whispered strenuously, hardly able to hold back his enthusiasm.

Rude tried to hush him, but with his mouth full of food and his burning gaze hidden behind the sunglasses, the other Turk went on as if he had no boundaries.

"I'm telling you, you can score with this girl. Ask her out!"

"Mo!" came as a muffled opposition filtered through a bolus of food. "B'shidsh, she, hash Clou."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," Elena engaged supportively, still shuffling the cards between bites. "In love and war all is fair. Cloud has no patent on Tifa. Is she wearing a collar perhaps? Asking won't hurt. Besides, it was about a hundred years ago since you were on a date."

"Was not!" Rude defended himself.

"Was too!" the others added in chorus.

"All right!" Rude felt he needed to end the conversation.

He was very fond of Tifa, enough even to not want to cause her problems in her current relationship, but maybe Elena and Reno were right. Life is full of chances and even if it won't lead to anything, it couldn't hurt asking. With insecure movements and his massive heart pounding in his throat, Rude left the table and slowly approached the counter. The others watched with anticipation from the table.

From the corners of her eyes, Tifa noticed a wall approaching, but the illusion was in conflict with her logic, hence she looked up and discovered the gentle face of Rude staring back at her. He had respectfully removed his sunglasses and for the first time she saw the almond-shaped black pearls scan the area around him. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his hands at which Tifa dropped the comment;

"Not many people walk around with handkerchiefs these days."

Rude halted and looked at the wrinkly piece of square cloth in his hands putting it swiftly away. Noticing that the big man was abashed, the woman felt the need to clarify that it was by all means very posh and very suitable for a gentleman. Using her sixth sense of female intuition, Tifa felt that there was something more behind Rude's sudden visit, other than the meal he wished to pay for. But first things first. Tifa scanned the credit card and once Rude had signed it with his thumbprint she asked if there was anything else he wanted. Though dark skinned, the shift in color on his cheeks was clearly noticeable but in a gesture of respect, Tifa pretended she hadn't noticed. Rude cursed his coyness, which accompanied a muffle that bound his words, but courageously stood his ground determined not to fail in the eyes of his peers.

"Miss Lockhart," he began, whilst rubbing a tiny spot on the bar counter with his index finger, "I was sort of thinking… that perhaps one day… Oh, uh, not today," he pointed out quickly and then continued. "…that maybe if you perhaps find the time to possibly consider… if you don't have anything else to do that specific day, which is very important…" and then he drifted off with incoherent mumblings, which Tifa found most amusing but kept patiently listening and occasionally nodding. "I mean, I know having a bar like this takes a lot of time from any other activities… not that I was planning on anything specific that would take too much time from you… but if you perchance find some time in your busy schedule… maybe you could consider having a friendly drink with me?"

Tifa smiled, biting her lips.

"Rude, are you asking me on a date?"

The big man had shrunk to half his normal size and almost disappeared into the ground on the other side of the counter. That is how he felt at least.

"I guess, Miss Lockhart."

The young woman couldn't help but acknowledge this lovable, yet childishly clumsy approach, but had to decline for the sake of her relationship. She cast a sad glance after Rude as the friendly giant trudged back to his place next to his friends. The truth of the matter was that she liked Rude. He was a brute at times, but a misunderstood person. He didn't waste his words unless it was absolutely necessary, but he had a sharp intellect and underneath that crude façade he possessed a gentle soul that seldom found its way into the light. Well, she had noticed it many times. He was kind with the local kids and whenever he had time, he offered to help the old blacksmith carrying the raw material to be processed in the ovens. In short, he was of sturdy material himself, both in spirit and body; stable. So unlike Cloud, who was constantly on the lookout for something; so shifting, so unbalanced and so volatile.

Tifa sighed. Cloud's mother had lived in the small town of Nibelheim before it was turned to ashes by Sephiroth's wrath. Tifa liked Mrs. Strife, for she had a bright, cheerful personality; perhaps even a little naïve, which was accentuated by that windswept blond hair. She doted on her son and was constantly worried about him being in the big city of Midgar. For that reason, she would have liked him to have an older girlfriend who could take care of him, but Cloud didn't seem interested. In fact, he wasn't very interested in anything lately.

After the destruction of Sephiroth, Cloud and Tifa had decided to settle into Nibelheim, which had risen from the ruins anew, just like Midgar was doing now. But when too many memories were still haunting along the old streets, they decided to live further out in the countryside and leave the past where it belonged. That happened just after Tifa and Cloud became serious as a couple. Yes, serious and perhaps too serious. There was no playfulness or joy left in anything anymore. The turmoil of the everyday life washed over Tifa's inner vision and riding on the current of a sudden impulse she called out for Rude.

"Hey, Rude, how about if I call you sometime after closing time? I can't promise when, but I do promise to give you a call."

A radiant smile travelled across Rude's lips as he accepted the offer with enthusiasm and agreed to pick her up after the working day had come to an end. Indeed, it didn't hurt to ask. Shortly following the cheerful events, Tseng had returned to the table and the group started up a new round of cards. Cards, the foretellers of probable outcomes, the numbers of structured chance; all that seemed so random, yet governed by complex mathematical precision that rendered the impossible equally real as the baffling events of evolution. It was all real. No matter how grand or insignificant; it all obeyed some form of law to which it was bound. Just like those little sparks of madness dwelling in the stillness of an organic world; the spawns of Jenova were thriving like parasitic clusters on the artificial wombs provided.

* * *

Rufus was most pleased with the accomplishments of Professor Hojo and the development of his new army. The first generation had already been harvested and their growth was accelerated to young men. They were all platinum haired and perfect clones of each other; synchronised in body and mind as they advanced through the obstacles presented on the training grounds. They jumped fences, crawled in mud, shot on target, climbed the faces of the artificial rocks, endured conditions that would break any human soldier and above all, showed no signs of thought or regret. They were perfect killing-machines.

The perfect army with which Rufus could regain power of the planet and further extend it to the vast parts of the entire space squadron. Indeed, his father before him had tamed the source of the planet's energy, but had to abandon the project as the planet weakened and started withering. Now, he had new ambitions. Walking in his father's footsteps, Rufus ShinRa was not immune to the hunger of power and thus saw the benefits of taming uninhabited planets and extracting their Lifestream in order to be the main supplier of energy to the entire squadron. Such power and such wealth would need an extraordinary army for protection. Indeed, whoever controlled the Lifestream and its powers also controlled fate and the future.

Everything in life was striving towards increasing entropy, as energy decreased and thus fuelling the passage of time in an unassailable direction. But controlling the energy of the drive force, would ultimately lead to the control of the future. And everyone who wanted on board the enterprise had to show certain interest and a small credit donation to realize the project.

The message sent to this electronic calendar from his secretary alerted him to a meeting that was about to begin in fifteen minutes. It was a business meeting and he smiled all the way up to surface level. Powerful leaders from the squadron were waiting by their communicators to hold the most important meeting in a long time. It would shape the future of billions and create a new foundation of power for the ShinRa Corporation.

The blood samples taken from Sephiroth as a child were purified from human traits to restore Jenova's contribution, which was later enriched through cloning. Those tissue samples were then used to implant what little humanity was needed to tame the creatures. Indeed, they were more alien than Sephiroth ever was and Rufus was confident the project would succeed this time.

He remembered Sephiroth with slight sadness. Directly after delivery, Sephiroth spent his infant years submerged in a semi-organic suspension tank. When reaching the toddler's age, he was allowed to be awake and roam in the laboratories to begin his education, but the experiments had started already when he was unconscious in the "tube", as Hojo referred to it. He had showed incredible endurance to most harmful trials.

The tests had continued at a low level throughout early childhood, but by the time he was ten, he displayed remarkable intelligence and refined skills in his inaugural military training. As the young man's body became stronger and more mature, the really heavy experimentation began into what his body could cope with; to see how it differed from the average human. Sephiroth left everyone in awe. He was powerful and above all, stunningly beautiful; in short, flawless in everything. Or so it seemed.

He survived everything, even when the tests and trials were almost breaking his body. Covered in sweat and tears of pain, his human heritage unwillingly released, Sephiroth remained strong in the face of agony and accepted it as a part of his life.

One particular event came to mind. Rufus reached the top level of the grand complex in his dome of power and during the short walk to his office, he kept on thinking about the time when Sephiroth received the highest dose of Mako, refined Lifestream, ever injected into a body. His body was writhing in cramps, mouth foaming with saliva, eyes watering, and nose and ears bleeding. He had ripped his own fingernails scratching the insides of the ectobar sarcophagus in which he was contained during the experiment. He bit his tongue in half and just as he was feared to be suffocating, the pain eased and the body submerged in comatose slumber. But unlike the others, Sephiroth healed quickly. The Jenova cells would not allow for him to die and he was on his feet within weeks.

When he awoke, he had a strange glow in his almond shaped eyes and all Soldiers following him were inoculated with minor doses. That was the reason why their eyes had that eerie glow and it gave them the ability to use Materia to cast spells. Hojo had started early with Sephiroth and at higher doses to investigate his tolerance; hence Sephiroth was the most powerful sorcerer ever. But in some aspects, Sephiroth remained human.

Already at a tender age, when hormones swept his brain, he showed profound curiosity for the opposite sex and later to some male assistants as well; insisting to be handled by a handful of assistants, a chosen few, who sometimes spent longer periods of time with the teenager behind barred doors and the security cameras shut down. Though ridiculed and belittled by Hojo for his human urges, never to his face, however, Rufus' father understood that even Sephiroth needed to vent his emotions; those remnants of weakness of human legacy. But it was only a short period, because as Sephiroth grew older, his self-control had gained outstanding proportions and not even the human flaws in him managed to break the fortress of power. There was no use for the caretakers anymore… not even for his own personal pleasure. They were dismissed.

In fact, as the young man reached his position as a General in his late teens, he fell victim to aphephobia. He couldn't stand to be touched or reach out to people. On extremely rare occasions he would extend a hand to greet someone or be caught in a moment when he would place a hand, other than for the sake of violence, on a fellow human. Sephiroth slipped on a downward spiral and the more of a recluse he became the harder it was to empathize with others and reach out. He became withdrawn to the extent where he would rather sit in the dark apartment, completely obscured, not a spark of light bouncing off the walls and just listen to the silence whilst his own spark for life dwindled.

He started wearing gloves in public, and shunned human contact beginning the day he led his tenth battle to victory. It was almost as if he instinctively shielded himself from the flesh that he slaughtered on the battlefields. He did not want to feel those he must destroy, and he no longer wished for those who were like his victims to reach towards him. Yes, Sephiroth had become reclusive, introverted, silent and damaged. He was complete as a Soldier but broken as a person even before he became a man. In addition, Sephiroth was addicted to Mako-injections. Rufus knew, so did Hojo and Professor Gast, but not many others. He was alone and abandoned in his own addiction.

So, the great General was not only aphephobic, reclusive and a self-isolated sociopath, he was also a pathetic drug addict. In the dead of the night, he would struggle greatly if he did not receive his little fix, then drift off in a semi-conscious state where Jenova would silently, but profoundly exert her powers over him. She would connect to her spawn when he was "drifting", as Sephiroth himself often referred to that state. He was in bliss when he "drifted", but it was never lasting.

Rufus remembered when he was only an adolescent. He had followed his father, the President, to the head office, as he was to learn from an early age what it was like to lead a big company. Sephiroth was already a General and already frozen in heart and soul. He had been summoned to the office by President ShinRa for they were to have a meeting about the army's financial requirements to estimate the energy need for the coming fiscal year. Rufus had been asked to demonstrate he could crunch numbers and draw conclusions about the needs of the company for a prosperous future and was allowed to stay with his father throughout the meeting. During the discussion with President ShinRa, Rufus got to understand the devastating power within the General, sprung from his incapability to empathize.

Jenova's son was a pure bred sociopath with unusual hang-ups regarding life and himself as a person, something that normal humans would never even reflect over. Sephiroth had no problems with taking decisions and building up tactics around the destruction of enemies, even if those tactics would involve a great loss of civilians, simply referred to by him as unfortunate casualties; "The cost of war to maintain balance". However, a simple invitation to the ShinRa mansion where he would have the chance to mingle with the crème-de-la-crème was met with an insecure glance and a subsequent decline.

Although most people failed to notice, Sephiroth's addiction would be agitated by unpleasant suggestions and he would start to grit his teeth and the jaw-muscles would tense. He would cross his arms, one hand placed on his chin so as to hide his subtle chewing, and with a deep breath he would expand his chest to raise the high collar on his jacket to hide part of his troubled features. It made him look sterner, but in fact he was a scared victim. There was no doubt in Rufus' mind that Sephiroth truly feared the masses; people who asked questions about him as a person. Indeed, what would he answer them… what could he?

He had no experiences that would enable him to relate to other people; whatever they spoke about was alien and uncomfortable to him. He had no problems with death, but life was a great threat and utterly difficult for him to grasp. Sex was long gone and forgotten, kisses long frozen and passion ebbed out. Rufus remembered seeing abashment blushing on Sephiroth's pale cheeks each time the cadets would pull a dirty joke. It was strange – how could have nights of ecstasy been forgotten? After being crowned as General, Sephiroth had become ascetic, but rumours had it that he slipped occasionally.

Rufus indulged in those stories, much to the frustration of Sephiroth knowing that something was being said behind his back. But Rufus didn't mind. It was those little slips that he respected the most. It showed that Sephiroth, along with the other angels, had at least something human about him. And it made them all so much better than just plain, aloof aliens.

Rufus knew there was no one in Sephiroth's life who had given him warmth. The General could not understand affections, brotherhood, family values or even friendship. Not after he had shed his emotional heritage. His understanding of friendship was a small number of people he tolerated enough to relieve the burden of command; Angeal and Genesis and later on Zack. Sephiroth's family consisted of an insane father who pushed him through rigorous experimental sessions to exercise the mind as well as body to build a thinking killing machine, and an alien mother whose concocted genes gestated together with his own inside a powerless, feeble minded woman of weak character who agreed to the experiments at first, then lost her mind over the consequences it brought about and barred herself out of guilt and shame behind impenetrable Mako-crystals.

These events can make a sociopath out of anyone Rufus concluded and turned his thoughts onto his new army. Well, Rufus' new army would be even more complete, and with that conviction he stepped into the office, already awaited by the projected images of investors and stakeholders.


	5. Blithe Memories

**BLITHE MEMORIES**

Cloud watched the sun set and drifted away in reminiscence. There were so many blithe memories from the past, but so difficult to recall them in order to add some color and warmth to the cold present. Following the defeat of Sephiroth, he had come to the realization that it was indeed the General who had encased the heart of the young lad and obscured every sensation of happiness. Sephiroth had become the darkness of Cloud and his very source of misery. For what reason, he was still unsure. Why was Kadaj referring to him as a brother and why was Cloud's connection to Sephiroth so strong? Cloud could not be free from the darkness as long as Sephiroth existed and the final battle between them had been a fight for survival. Cloud knew he had nothing to live for if he couldn't find the light within himself, and banishing the great General into memory had not been the way to get it back. How foolish of him to believe otherwise. Now, the doves were falling from the skies and he was mourning the memories that were lost along with Sephiroth. Could he even remember who the man he idolized so much actually was? He submerged in thoughts of the past, and after a long while of nothingness ruling his locked mind, he gave up his efforts with a humble plea.

"Give me something to remember you by," Cloud sighed and poured a glass of red port to wash down his defeat.

As he was sipping in silence, forgotten images were rising in his consciousness along with the fragrance of his ruby drink. There were sounds that stepped forth from the curtain of white noise in the ether and vivid memories were suddenly in full bloom as the fragrance of the port filled his vicinity. He let off a chuckle and welcomed the images that filled his room and claimed his heart. It began as Cloud, then as a mere Cadet, was called to the office of the great General. He began drifting in the memories….

"What an honor," Cloud thought to himself, "to finally have the chance to speak to the Soldier of all Soldiers; Sephiroth. And face to face too."

But at the same time, there was nervousness rooting within. What was it that Sephiroth wanted? What could Cloud possibly provide that the great General needed from him? The blond felt his heart race with a terrible pace, sweat broke out on his forehead and his palms grew cold the closer he advanced towards the great metallic door that led to the grand office. He was hoping to find a toilet near the office to sneak into before facing Sephiroth, since just about everything he had eaten was in an anxiety-driven hurry to leave his body. Not a very dignified sensation, but a quick visit could solve at least that problem.

Shortly after, a conveniently placed sign directed him to the closest lavatory. Cloud looked at the time and concluded he had more than ten minutes to spare. Perfect. He picked up his pace during the last few steps to freedom, since the closer he was to relieve himself the more urgent the matter seemed and in the comfort of privacy at the notion that all other stalls were empty, he finally got down to business. However, all transactions involved a piece of paper either as a contract at the start or receipt in the end, to seal the agreement, but begrudgingly there was no receipt for the dinner he had processed.

"Damn!" Cloud cursed within. "Not now! No, no, no!"

No matter how many times he turned the roll, there was not even as much as microscopic remnants of paper on it and the only option he had was to wait for a good Samaritan to show up. Passing time with frustration, whilst rehearsing all possible excuses he needed to present Sephiroth with, the door to the lavatory finally opened. Someone was using the urinal and following the trickle of water at the washbasin and then the silencing of the hand drier, Cloud managed a meek 'Hello?'. The footsteps halted and silence ascended as the other guest was listening intently and obviously trying to identify the voice.

"Cadet Strife?"

It was Sephiroth and Cloud almost melted into the seat with shame. He would have rather been flushed down than having to speak up, but there was nothing other to do. Sephiroth went on.

"I wondered why you were over an hour late…"

"I've been here waiting."

"Waiting? Cloud, as much as I like having the toilet this close to my office, I try to cut down on holding meetings in here. Next time wait outside my office, but more close to it than this… perhaps visible too?"

"Understand, Sir, but there's no paper in the crapper, Sir."

"Pardon?"

Cloud raised his voice a little; "There is no paper in this stall… Sir."

"I see," Sephiroth stated. "Such bad luck Cadet Strife."

"Yeah, kind of is, Sir," Cloud concurred. "After an hour here, my legs are getting pretty numb. Can you… possibly… get me some?"

"Crutches?"

"Paper, Sir."

"Why certainly."

Although he could neither see nor hear anything, there was something about the silence exuding from Sephiroth that made Cloud aware that the General was surely enjoying this hiccup. Within a few seconds a new roll of white paper appeared under the crevice of the door and with the helpful advice of 'Wash your hands when you're done' written on it, Sephiroth left the lavatory. The young cadet could not have had a worse opportunity to bump into his superior, being caught in such an embarrassing and helpless situation. And now, he would have to face him yet again.

It was late afternoon and most young men had the day off due to a bank holiday and sometimes that included even the military. Cloud, along with a handful of others, had been chosen to be in service, and it was all going well until Sephiroth requested his presence. Since then, everything seemed to be going pear-shaped. He knocked on the door to the office and was asked to step in.

"General?"

Sephiroth looked up from his papers asking; "Expecting someone else, Cadet Strife?"

Cloud returned a confused expression with a limp smile frozen on his lips and bewilderment radiating from his teal gaze. Sephiroth made a funny. Was that for real? The young cadet didn't dare to respond just in case the 'funny' was not meant to be funny at all. Maybe it was a serious rhetorical question… or perhaps a trick question. With Sephiroth, one could never be sure. Cloud noticed a glass of wine next to the stack of papers and concluded that it must be the alcohol talking. The great General was finishing up some paper work and without even raising his head, he started speaking.

"Tell me, cadet, do you have a cell phone?"

"Yes, Sir," Cloud responded.

"Is it working?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Have adequate reception on it?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Then why didn't you call for someone instead of waiting for an hour in the… 'crapper'… it's what you cadets call it, am I right?"

"Crapper, Sir?"

"Toilet, Cloud," Sephiroth clarified to the dumbfounded boy. "Your apparent roosting place."

Was the General drunk? Cloud could not make up his mind. Sephiroth certainly looked perfectly normal, but never in his life had the poster-boy for the ultimate Soldier even allowed himself to be caught dead speaking a language unbefitting a general.

"Well… uhm… I did call. No one answered. The guys're all out, I guess… Sir."

"Not me… at least as a final solution."

"You weren't exactly the first person coming to mind to help me out of the… this situation, Sir."

"Still, I was," Sephiroth threw in. "I hope you're not going to make a habit of me pulling you out of your shit, Cloud."

"Whaaa…" Cloud's voice died with surprise.

"However, let this be a lesson for you, Strife," Sephiroth went on and placed the nicely shaped calligraphy ink-pen next to the stack of papers. "First of all, never underestimate the value of reconnaissance or scouting. Always make sure of where you're going and what you'll be facing, and in your case, if you have all you need to complete the mission. Secondly, feel free to contact people in the future to pull you out of these 'sordid' situations, so I don't have to become yours truly. Out on the field, you can't wait around for 'the right person' to come along. You never hesitate to ask for help or hesitate in helping your peers because it can mean the difference between life and death. If that matters to you, then swallow that pride and use your head. Survive at all cost, Strife."

"Yes, Sir."

Sephiroth suddenly ceased his benevolent preaching and stuck in a cold, sinister thorn into the lesson.

"…even if it's your enemy, Cloud. Ask for help, convince them to help… then when you're done… decide if they are worth killing or not."

"Y-yes, Sir."

After a while of silence, Cloud gathered enough courage to speak.

"You requested me, Sir. Is there anything I can help you with?"

"No, Cloud. I requested your presence, not you, and I think I'm the one being able to help you."

"Sir?"

Sephiroth took a sip out of his glass of port and smiled at Cloud. His shapely tongue travelled across his symmetrical lips as he lapped up the traces of port. Cloud watched as if hypnotized and with a sense of lust, which Sephiroth noticed instantly.

"Cloud, didn't your mother tell you it's rude to stare?"

"Yes, Sir! Sorry, Sir," Cloud lowered his gaze.

"Why bother, Strife? You're not home anymore. Besides, I don't mind the attention occasionally. Now take a seat."

Cloud lifted his gaze, curious of Sephiroth's behavior, but did as he was told and sat down in the leather armchair across from the office desk of rare ebony and rose-wood. Sephiroth left his seat and from the elegant bar, which President Rufus had installed in the lavish office, got another glass and offered some port to Cloud before seating himself.

"So, you've been in the army for two years now, am I right?" the General started.

Cloud nodded and stared into his glass of ruby red port. It was divine in fragrance and swirled like a liquid jewel in the glass.

"Well, I've gone through your record and your achievements. I've heard from Zack that apart from being a 'backwater expert' you're also quite a little fighter.

"Oh?" was all that Cloud could muster.

His heart was racing so fast he could hardly breathe. Sephiroth noticed it very clearly and smiled alluringly, making Cloud tremble throughout his entire core. Sephiroth was most amused and his sassy wickedness fuelled the situation even more, by pulling the blond into a wet, audacious gaze that made Cloud feel naked and exposed before a scrutinizing crowd. Sephiroth played a game, his weekend amusement, and he played it so well.

"Oh yes," he responded, purring like a cat. "And so, without any further ado, I'm calling for your upgrade from Cadet to a Third Class Soldier. Keep this up and you'll be a First Class in a few years time. You will need to go through a rigorous test, of course, but I think you are ready."

Cloud almost lost his breath and his hands started shaking. The extent of the honor was beyond and above all he would have ever dared to imagine. He was smiling radiantly.

"So," the General went on and raised his glass, "before you drop the glass, or disfigure your face, let's make a toast… to you, Strife."

Cloud returned the gesture and took a sip. He had never before tasted port and was not expecting the alcohol to deliver such an instant blow. He started coughing to the amusement of the General. Sephiroth left his seat and walked up to Cloud, patting his back.

"Are you all right, Strife?"

Cloud nodded between coughs and the firm slaps of Sephiroth's hand that felt more to his detriment than benefit.

"Yes, Sir."

Cloud was abashed, honored, weak and strong at the same time. The emotions were running through him like a violent river and he was almost soaring with elation. Could this really be true? He suddenly gulped the wine as if it was water at which Sephiroth placed a hand on his glass saying port was to be enjoyed with every sip and filled it up again. The superior Soldier then seated himself behind his desk again and leaned casually back in his leather chair.

"I know you're surprised to see me like this, Cloud. Truth is, sometimes there are hidden parts of me that surface… something more akin to you and your friends. How's that for a mind-twister? Believe it or not, it surprises me too at times, but the only way to root out a weakness is by allowing it to happen, learn from it and eventually destroy it. You can only destroy things you are familiar with… when you know how to do it. But as with everything else that concerns me, you'll keep it quiet, yes?"

"Yes, Sir," Cloud agreed, but there was something more he wished to say or ask.

Root out what? That Sephiroth was way more than any man could ever become even with his flaws? Why root it out when it made him more complete? Cloud did realize, however, that Sephiroth would most likely not be interested in hearing a young 'nobody' lecture him and he remained silent.

"Cloud," the General called out. "You want to correct me."

Cloud jerked with surprised, eyes wide and flickering. "Oh no, Sir," he defended himself, but Sephiroth waved it off with a disarming smile.

"Oh, come now, Cloud. I'm reclusive, not retarded. Give me some credit, Cadet, and don't take me for a fool. Please… go on."

"Well," Cloud drawled, "you tell me never to hesitate to act upon something no matter how embarrassing or pressing the situation, but…"

"But what?"

"But why doesn't it apply to you, Sir?"

Sephiroth snorted, his face seemingly dissolving in inertia, but reignited in sobriety quickly and subsequently acknowledging Cloud with a muttered 'touché'.

"Because, Cloud, there are some things that just cannot be fixed."

"I don't believe that, Sir. Not about you."

"You believe in too much good… in too many people. Believe me, kid, some people are just born damaged."

"Everything can be fixed, though, General. That's what I believe."

"Only if you know 'how' it broke," Sephiroth emptied his glass and then burrowed his gaze into that of Cloud. "Do you consider me broken, Cadet… pardon me… Soldier Strife?"

Cloud flew up from his seat, immediately realizing that he had placed his foot in his mouth and presented his sincere apologies in the only way he knew in the face of authority.

"Sir, no, Sir! I realize I stepped over the boundaries. It was not and is not my business to go there, Sir," he asserverated, but Sephiroth calmed him with yet another glass of wine.

"So tell me, Cloud," Sephiroth purred, but this time he withheld his feline eyes from the blond as he asked, "What do you think about me?"

Surely the opinions of others mattered nothing to the General, but if he really needed an answer, Cloud could give him one. With his eyes firmly anchored onto Sephiroth, the young cadet began speaking. Words were escaping him effortlessly, and perhaps that was something he should've controlled better. He didn't even notice when he transgressed the boundary between formality and familiarity.

"I think… like most others do… that you're amazing, Sephiroth."

The General cocked his head at the sound of his name being spoken by a subordinate, but allowed for it to set adrift, as he was hungry to hear more.

"I think you're the greatest Soldier ever," Cloud went on, words infused with the candor of an idolizing boy. "There's nothing you've ever failed at, you endure everything, a master swordsman, a precise tactician and apart from all that… you're perfect in appearance. You're not leaving much for us others to work on. There's just one thing, though… if I may."

"What's that?"

"I've never seen a person lonlier," Cloud put forward. "And I don't mean to offend, Sir."

"You don't," Sephiroth sighed with a sad smile. "I know this is a one-way street for me, Cloud. And I don't know where it ends, but there are no others walking along this road."

"It doesn't have to be like that, Sir."

"I know, Strife, but I prefer it."

"But, Sir…"

"What happened to 'Sephiroth'?" the General cut in distractingly, merely to buy time to sort out his thoughts.

"Right, sorry about that," Cloud smiled, but swiftly continued on his train of thought. "There's so much more out there, though. It's a holiday, for instance, why are you here?"

As the General was about to speak again, his office communicator signalled an incoming call, which he responded to. Before Cloud had the chance to ask for permission to leave, Sephiroth gestured for him to stay put and finish the wine. The conversation that followed was something Cloud would think back on with the warmest sensations keeping him strong during the most arduous of times. Sephiroth activated his small hands-free and Cloud witnessed the conversation from a distance. Through a series of monologues he built up a comprehensive view of what had taken place.

"Yes? Yes, this is he… speaking. Yes, sir, the third squadron is on leave because of the bank holiday. Who? Danzee and Zack? And five others? Excuse me, I didn't quite catch that. In jail?!" the General asked in disbelief. "Why? They threw a what?"

Sephiroth's complexion rarely, if ever, solidified in lines that captured his daze, but at that moment a large question-mark ghosted over his face. This was a fortuitous moment, no doubt, that presented Cloud with such a singularly infrequent opportunity, that he couldn't help but to sharpen his senses to perceive more of the odd conversation. Little did he know, however, that it was his turn to fill in the gap.

"I see. Hold a minute, please," Sephiroth put the hands-free on hold and leaned over to Cloud. "Strife, what's a trashcan party?"

Cloud's face turned nearly as red as his drink, but Sephiroth was merciless in his quest for answers, especially since a few of his finest Soldiers were now under arrest for indecent behavior.

"Well, General, it's sort of… well, it really depends on how people play it…"

"Play what? Spit it out, Strife."

"Well, Sir, it's the act of masturbating near a trashcan and trying to aim… you know… score."

Sephiroth was dumbstruck, merely raising an eyebrow whilst face remained paralyzed in a state of stupefaction; and not in a good way.

"Well," Cloud cleared his throat to make a new attempt. "You can tippy-toe…"

"Tippy-toe?" Sephiroth's other eyebrow followed suit.

Cloud nodded and continued, "…in close proximity or directly above a garbage receptacle, the trashcan or garbage bag, with intent to… uhm…ejaculate… in the… into the said receptacle."

Sephiroth rolled his eyes with a deep breath and then continued the conversation with the officer in charge of jailing the juvenile Soldiers. As befitting his unyielding character, Sephiroth remained professional and procacious, although there was something of an element in him that enjoyed this outlandish event. Whether he felt anything negative or positive, he let none of it show directly.

"Lieutenant? Yes, can you please put the one called Zack on the phone?" Sephiroth was tapping his fingers against the polished desk, and then asked ever so calmly; "Zack, how did you do this?"

The response he apparently received made Sephiroth cock his head with surprise, even if he swiftly regained composure.

"No, I'm not referring to the actual party procedure. You don't have to explain… I already know. No, I haven't tried it," the General snarled and then continued with a slightly tensed voice, "What I'd like to know is, if you were in a hotel how could you be arrested for public indecency?"

The empty stare in Sephiroth's face was tickling the nerves inside of Cloud. His lips were trembling as he fought bravely to smother the cachinnation bubbling within. The young cadet was holding on to his seat as if he were about to take off into space, whilst Sephiroth's eyebrows were dancing incoherently to the frivolous set of events his Cadets were responsible for. After a while, Sephiroth went on coolly with forehead resting against his palm and eyes downcast.

"Whose bright idea was it to try to aim for the trashcans from the balcony? Come again? No, Zack, it was not intended as a pun!"

Sephiroth listened for a moment and buried his face in his palms, exhaling the hot air whirling in his chest as he spoke with gathered poise.

"Zack, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that it will drift in the wind. Yes, I'm sure they got upset. I should think so."

The seraph tried rubbing some sense into his head whilst digesting the extent of the stupidity. For a while there was nothing but occasional audible confirmations of noises emitted from Sephiroth, but Cloud found it all very amusing nonetheless. Suddenly, the General raised his voice anew, but never to the point of unnerving;

"Well, how about this for an idea? You're grounded for the next upcoming bank holidays, with full service commencing immediately after you have sobered up. Pardon? No, I think I'll let you guys stay there over night. You need to sober up and as long as you are behind bars, I feel safer. What? Who needs medical attention? Why? Allergic reaction… systemic or local? Local… where? Right, we'll have a nice, little chat about this tomorrow when you're back," the General stated calmly. "Put the Lieutenant back on."

Sephiroth released a sigh of relief, but his eyes kept avoiding Cloud so he would not be drawn into the recurring laughter overtaking the Cadet

"Yes, sir, I agree they need to sleep it off. I'm a little concerned, however, about the allergic reaction of the blond. Can he get some medical attention? Or just drug him unconscious, at least he won't suffer dying. Yes, I understand. Thank you."

Sephiroth removed his hands free and sunk into his seat with a deep sigh.

"Well, Strife, what do you think about this? Cloud? Cloud, are you all right?"

Cloud remembered laughing so hard he was crying. Tears were flooding his eyes and he couldn't find the words. At first, Sephiroth was almost affronted, but somewhere deep inside he was equally amused. He was a loner and abandoned in his greatness and power, and it was merely through these roguish, juvenile, and foolish events that he soaked up a bit of what he had missed out on during his early life.

By the time the images faded, the glass was emptied of port and so was the bottle. Cloud sighed and whispered towards the setting sun, rays caressing his worn face with warmth.

"I hate to admit it, but sometimes I miss you, Sephiroth. You hardly even exist in my memory anymore and I feel so empty. I want you back… despite the cost."

All of a sudden, a fallen, black dove began frantically flapping its wings to get up from the ground. It was fighting to get off the soil, and following its struggle, the dove took off from the ground to seek shelter on the windowsill. Cloud watched it with a sense of hope seeding within his chest. The animal caught its breath, shook off the repercussions of the fall from the skies and with a final leap it soared through the air… higher and higher until it disappeared out of sight. Cloud felt genuine happiness that night.


	6. The Devil's Concubine

THE DEVIL'S CONCUBINE

Vincent was afraid to sleep. Night after night, thoughts and visions of Sephiroth and the death of the remnant brothers had plagued him. Vincent knew what waited in the depth of his dreams; when his unconsciousness overrode the waking mind as the gates to the underworld granted access to the nightmares and allowed them to break through to this plane. The Daemon host had no will to sacrifice yet another night of rest in seeing the bastard son of Lucrecia surface and display his purgatory. It seeded no compassion in his heart, only fear, and Vincent was tired of being afraid. More specifically, tired of being afraid of himself. However, his loyalty to Lucrecia and the fact that Sephiroth had been her son slowly and with a creeping presence clouded his eyes with fatigue and allowed the dream world to emerge.

He was falling through an opening in the ground. Gaea's pulsating veins of Lifestream were shimmering through the surrounding darkness and broke his fall before he hit the ground where there was none. The Lifestream was blinding in its brightness and Vincent was forced to cover his eyes. The human in him whimpered with that twinge of ache that it caused him and once again, when he was in dire need of Chaos, the Daemon laid dormant in the depths of his core.

After a moment of hesitation, Vincent cautiously removed his hands from his face and peered through those tiny slits his ruby eyes formed. Black, rich lashes filtered the intensity of the light as he scanned his surroundings, and when he got used to the brightness, Vincent noticed he was in a vast room with no corners neither between the walls nor to the ceiling or ground. It was more like an empty space, but everything was white as milk and far up ahead there was something that protruded out of the rippled ground like a throne. Vincent took a deep breath and started walking towards the throne. There was peacefulness in this sterility and for a moment he forgot about the fear he harbored inside. His steps were light as feathers as he moved closer to the throne; he could hardly feel the ground beneath his feet. The closer he got the more obvious it became that the throne was in fact a bed covered in wet, torn sheets and upon it was the most magnificent beauty he had seen in a long time, a breathtakingly stunning concubine.

It was Sephiroth in all his former glory. He was lying naked on the cold, white sheets, supporting himself on his black wings that extended like a quilt under the slim body; reclining in elegance. Black feathers lay scattered all over the sheets, witnessing the intensity of unrestrained, debauched games of indulgence. The liquid ground rippled into a set of steps that led to the throne of desire, inviting him close, but Vincent halted with hesitation. He watched the motionless angel from the base of the staircase and conflicting thoughts washed over his brain. He knew he should turn back, but there was something that spoke to him, calling for him softly and thus he took the first step. The scattered feathers trembled slightly as the air around them was disturbed by his cautious movement. When Vincent made another move, each delicate quill whirled up, soaring towards the Daemon and tantalizingly marking his path towards the bed; drawing him closer to the wanting Angel.

When he was only a breath away from Sephiroth, Vincent noticed the black, metal collar which was set with sturdy links forming a heavy chain that anchored and held the angel confined to this space. The lipstick on the thin, symmetrical lips was in perfect harmony with the ebony wings and the chain holding Sephiroth down. His silver hair was beautifully arranged in impressive curls and locks that were intertwined with plaited and decorated strands. There was an aura of grace surrounding him that the Daemon lord found difficult to contain. Vincent felt an irresistible itch in his body calling for the desires of Sephiroth and his blood turned into rivers of lava, coursing with the fever that bloomed within as his eyes lapped up and drank down every delicious contour of the seductive spawn.

The angel blessed the Daemon with a faint smile and with a stale expression moved closer to Vincent, stretching the chain to its limit as he cupped his hands around the angular jaws of the gunman. Whispers as lean and sweet as honey were flowing into Vincent through gentle kisses and an explorative tongue carefully dancing, circling and tasting the inside of a responsive, wet mouth. Sephiroth's voice was like crystal fragments echoing in the clearest of oceans as he chanted:

"Teach me to see higher desire…"

Kisses burned inside Vincent, hands moved across his neck and shoulders.

"Return tied to my heart and take it away from here…"

Warm, milky palms had found a way inside his shirt, feeling the topography of the bulging cinnamon chest and the dents and crevices of the flat abdominal muscles.

"Lead me to the right path again…"

Audacious fingertips snuck behind the restraint of leather covered swaying hips and shapely fingers closed around a growing shaft. Helplessly trapped in the elation of this dreams, Vincent responded to the encouragements as his hands inadvertently embarked on a sacred voyage over the body of another man. Every message still anchored to the distant consciousness behind this veil of insanity of the dream world, carried warnings to summon what remained of Vincent's fading strength to make him pull away from the angel, but to no avail. Sephiroth's flesh was far too delightful to indulge in. The round shoulders and domed chest enveloped in marble white skin that smelled of the sweetness of morning dew. Vincent felt his fangs emerge and an irresistible urge to sink them into the softness of the neck of the Angel; to tear the flesh so as to draw the blood in a contrast to the milky hue. He wanted to see the streaks of deep red paint rivulets of life on the ghostly remnant of Sephiroth. Cause him pain, just to make the seraph scream his name.

Sephiroth caressed Vincent's face with gentle fingertips; those hands that had killed and ravaged and those fingers that had guided Masamune to drive the essence of Death through tormented bodies. Those fingers were now gentler than the softest breeze and the words spoken nestled straight into the heart of a tired warrior seeking comfort that has been denied him for over thirty years.

"If I told you that I loved the world I left behind," the angel began with a crystalline voice. "You'd think there's something wicked in me, but remember I'm not a man of broken faces. The mask I wear is one."

"They say that you betrayed all," Vincent whispered in return, chasing the black lips that were glistening in their enhanced perfection as the makeup brought out their lusciousness.

He was relentless in his pursuit until he caught the lips with his mouth, sucked onto them a long time, tasting, feeling and exploring every corner and curve before letting go. It was invigorating and deviantly scrumptious. The sound of their hunger filled the void.

"Those who speak ill know nothing, like those who curse their fate instead of reshaping it. Remember, daemon, those who fear are lost."

Vincent's hands were merging with the marble skin, exploring crevices never before felt by the tips of his fingers and he found himself indulging in the fruits of this wicked game. He had never before felt any desire for another man, but this angel managed to awaken those dormant sensations of elation that had been enclosed in the crystal prison along with Lucrecia. Vincent had longed for it to be free and was now experiencing what he thought was impossible after all the hurt.

"Take my seed before they steal it again," the angel whispered and moved away.

The Daemon gazed down on the preening, swaying body on the bed exposing a proud manhood filled with desire and waiting for a hungry mouth. For the first time Vincent could feel Chaos awakening and starting to breach through his boundaries. An insatiable hunger rumbled in the depth of his stomach, but before he had the chance to taste the sweetness of the angel, black mist was seeping into the light and obscuring the staircase.

Something dangerous was approaching. Vincent halted and nervously looked around as storms were awakening and when his wandering gaze found the way back to the angel anew, he noticed Sephiroth was deformed and decaying like the dead, wounded and weeping with his empty sockets. With a loud shriek the pale body was brutally repositioned on the bed; on his back and head hanging down over the edge of the mattress. Invisible shackles locked down his arms and his legs were forced wide apart until the hips joints cracked and dislocated. This vulgar position left him exposing a bruised member decorated with slashes and superficial cuts yet still engorged to the limit of bursting. Sephiroth was tilting and moving his hips as if he was penetrating something invisible above his body. He was seemingly preparing his body and taking pleasure in something that had assumed control over his being.

The sheets started to move and from underneath the torn silk, a monstrous lifeform emerged. As the sheets slipped off the massive body, Vincent recognised the characteristics of Jenova although it had no face other than the contours of a blank façade. Protruding from this body were tentacles like barbwires coiling around the immobilized angel, whilst the massive muscular torso narrowed towards the hips into a hideously deformed manhood, decorated with unevenness along the shaft, like rivets strapped on a pillar. It was frightening to even look at.

With tearful eyes the Daemon witnessed the brutal abuse, and Chaos burst into full bloom at the sound of flesh being torn. However, he was just as immobilized as the angel and barbwires coiling from the dark mist forced him to see what eyes were not meant to endure. Blood was flowing profusely out of the angel, soaking the bed in quantities that defied logic, yet he kept on bleeding until streaks of red were colouring the milky ground. With his head captured in apathy Sephiroth stared at Vincent as the world rocked to the movements of the monster lying between widely spread legs. With an almost hypnotic expression the angel whispered to Vincent.

"Almost… almost… almost… see it… almost… see it…"

Chaos struggled inside his web of thorns and wires. The angel was HIS and his alone. The seed was meant for him, the desire was his to keep… HIS!

The fiend lifted its head and as slashes appeared on its face, eyes and a mouth were formed and the more it thrust into Sephiroth the more human its shape.

"NO!" Chaos howled and rivers of fury washed down his face.

As the pace of the monster increased, Sephiroth tensed his body and following a few final thrusts he released his own seed into the mouth of Rufus ShinRa who gluttonously swallowed every precious drop.

With a final echoing cry Chaos emptied his rage and pushed Vincent into the world of the living. The warrior awoke violently, covered in sweat due to fear and a peculiar sense of excitement, and conflicts haunted his mind as he questioned his sanity for indulging in the thrill following such a brutal rape.

He tasted his own shame and choked on the disgrace knowing he climaxed to the vicious assault of a tortured seraph. To his disbelief he felt his seed covering his stomach, but giving it another thought, he noticed that there was something more beneath him. There was something sticky beneath his body. With dread and repentance he sunk to the ground, robbed of his strength and weeping his regret as the blood on his sheets bore witness to Sephiroth's pain. Once again dream and reality had intertwined into a bewildering truth.

Rushing towards the sounds of ache and expressions of grief, Nanaki burst into Vincent's domicile and found the human huddled up on the floor calling Sephiroth's name yet again.

"Get up on your feet, Vincent," Nanaki ordered with a steady growl, exposing his sharp fangs at the distasteful display he was witnessing. "This is unworthy of you!"

"I'm going mad, Nanaki. I don't even recognize the child of my beloved woman. He is not as I remember him. Not cold and recluse, not evasive and evil. He speaks..," Vincent whimpered from the floor with his face dissolved in bitter tears. "… in a way that awakens Chaos. I cannot go on like this. I feel I'm dying each time he calls for me. I can't go on like this."

Nanaki placed a comforting paw on the naked back of the man and swore to help him find the reason behind these dreams, but as a sentient being with more refined senses than even modified humans, he knew that the answer would be most unpleasant and the quest they would be facing would bring about more nightmares and more pain to conquer. He had seen the halo of the moon many nights in a row and with it Vincent's nightmares had gotten worse. There was something shading the clear vision of the human and the feline was beginning to wonder if Vincent was strong enough to pull through these times of trials and tribulations. Nanaki knew more than he was willing to expose. He had made a promise to only observe, but maybe it was now time to break the silence and open the gates to hell.

"Listen Vincent." the large cat started in a deep murmur. "Maybe you should listen to the silence behind the walls and see what hides beyond this plane."

Vincent got up from the floor and staggered over to the bed staring at the pool of blood. Touching his skin, the ex-Turk became aware of how sticky his body was and felt the instant urge to wash himself thoroughly. If he managed he would scrub this dirty skin off his body and grow a new layer. Alas, it was impossible and he was forced to reconcile with the thought of disgust covering him.

"I want to know who this was, Nanaki," Vincent sighed, mesmerized by patterns of precious blood on the white sheets. "I need to know more. I need to know why this is happening to me."


	7. Tainted Life

TAINTED LIFE

Three weeks had passed by and the nightmares had ceased, but Cloud Strife found no peace of mind. Tifa was relentless in her pursuit of answers regarding what had deteriorated their relationship in such a short period of time. She was determinedly pacing in the wake of Clouds steps, following him from room to room.

"Just tell me what in the name of the Gods it was that has changed you this much!"

Her voice was the opposite of that delicate softness she often spoke with. Her words were hailing over Cloud and it made him respond with anger.

"I don't know!"

"Don't lie to me, Cloud!" she yelled and grabbed him by the arm as he entered the hall from their living room.

As he turned with eyes rolling in a disrespectful manner, she shook him steadily by the shoulders and forced him to focus, piercing him with her burning gaze.

"You've been twisting and turning in the bed for months, asking me to leave you to your thoughts. I respected your wishes and I accepted the fact that you didn't even want to touch me. But now that you claim to have had weeks of no disturbance… you still don't care to hold me at night!"

Cloud freed himself from her grip by gently removing her hands from his shoulders and leaned forward with a somewhat patronizing tone saying; "And after months of sleepless nights I have to compensate for it. I am exhausted, Tifa!"

"Fine!" she shouted frowning and cheeks flushing with anger.

She said nothing more, but stepped past him and headed straight towards the bedroom. She ripped her suitcase out of the closet and threw it on top of the bed. Cloud entered shortly thereafter and began talking in a new, more subtle tone.

"C'mon, Tifa. Leaving is not going to solve our problems…"

"Oh yeah?" she voiced as she threw her clothes into the suitcase. "It certainly doesn't help staying here, 'cause you're not talking to me about anything anymore."

"What am I supposed to say, Tifa? I'm out of answers myself," Cloud explained and raked his fingers through his blond, tousled hair. "I…ME…I'm not sure what to think about what's happened… you tell me how the fuck I'm supposed to tell you!"

"Watch your mouth," Tifa snapped warningly like a strict teacher.

Cloud nodded dejectedly and apologized. Tifa was right, swearing wouldn't solve anything. Nothing could solve their problems now; neither swearing nor sweet words. Deep sighs were oscillating between the couple and finally Tifa broke the silence.

"Look, Cloud…" she began, but the blond cut in with a mere whimper.

"You don't have to leave."

Tifa shook her head as a response. "No I don't," she agreed tying her black hair in a ponytail and arranged the green cardigan that she buttoned all the way up to the neck. "But I want to."

Cloud lifted his head with surprise, eyes narrowing as the bitter truth hit his mind. He shook his head in denial.

"Yes," Tifa emphasized, hands digging into her back feet dragging slightly as she stepped up to Cloud, approaching him with insecure steps.

"Look." she continued. "I haven't told you because you seemed to be heavily burdened… but I don't have any desire to save this relationship any longer."

Cloud was silent, but strangely, he felt no aversion or anger towards this statement and he knew more was to come. Indeed, although he had been keeping a distance from Tifa, he had noticed the change within her and it somehow made him feel relieved that there was one thing less for him to brood on. It was an awful thing to think perhaps, but he needed solitude and an opportunity to clear his mind. Besides, Tifa was right. Why should she to waste years, months or even weeks with someone who wasn't taking advantage of the spark of youth? She was wasting time with him, time that would not return. It was better to move on.

"Have you met someone?" Cloud's voice was weak, but he wasn't sad at all and Tifa took no notice of that, but rather grasped the opportunity to speak freely.

"Two week's ago Rude entered the bar and we ended up spending some time together after closing time… just talking. But I really appreciated it. He has asked me out for a date, and I am going to say yes, Cloud." She looked around and shrugged with a faint smile adding; "I need that in my life. I can't wait for you for ages."

The blond smiled and cupped his hands around the girl's face, giving her an encouraging kiss.

"I'm glad for you, Tifa," Cloud whispered and held her tight. "I really need some time alone."

She nodded into the curve of his neck in understanding and following a few hours of clearing the air of anguish and replacing it with pleasant memories and feelings of mutual respect, the two parted.

Tifa would stay with Dïta, a girl she had recently employed to help out in the bar, and befriended soon after. The two had mutual interests and had many common denominators that united them as friends; hence it was of no consequence or trouble for Dïta to have Tifa living with her for as long as she needed for the situation to clear. In fact, both girls agreed that a little company and opportunity to have late night girl-talks were rather appealing and perhaps what they all needed.

Greybone was lying next to Cloud, unusually affectionate and refusing to leave the master out of sight for a single second. He even followed Cloud to the shower and waited patiently for him to get out, get dressed and finish his evening meal in front of the TV before going to bed. Greybone followed Cloud's every step almost as if he knew Cloud would be in need of some company that demanded nothing but a little warmth and an occasional gentle stroke on the back.

The TV was on and the faint radiance from it lit the room with dancing shadows of blue light. The pillows were piled under Cloud's head, supporting his torso and head in a comfortable position whilst Greybone pressed his slender little body close to the young man's waist. The cat was purring with every endearing caress that smoothed his fur. He was content and to the sound of this gentle purr, Cloud was slipping into the wasteland near to the borders of the dream world.

The dead of the night had settled upon the day and nocturnal creatures were greeting the darkness with a chorus of ghostly sounds. Cloud opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. At some point he must have turned off the TV; the house was dark and quiet as was his head. The blond was submerged in thoughts of his past, although he had hoped to be able to dwell on the issues regarding the nightmares in order to solve them. Instead of providing his soul with the answers he was desperately seeking, his mind kept on slipping back into the past. But strangely, the memories of his past were like little flights of dreams that slipped like water through his fingers once he tried to grasp them. The images fluttered about like butterflies and as he attempted to capture them, the holes in the net of his mind were too big and the butterflies slipped through, leaving him unable to either focus on the past or the future.

He shut his eyes tightly and tried to concentrate, until he was sweating from all the strenuous effort; but it was what his brain had demanded. For once his powers faded, the mind became receptive to marvellous details that emerged from his mind.

He slipped back to the time when all this began, the time when Cloud joined Avalanche on a raid on one of the eight Mako reactors that surrounded the city of Midgar. The Mako reactor was successfully destroyed but during their next mission at another reactor, the group was trapped and confronted by President ShinRa. Although they assumed victory, the reactor exploded and threw Cloud into the slums below Midgar. Falling through the roof of a derelict church, he landed on a flower bed, where he got to know Aeris Gainsborough the flower girl, who was merely a fragile disguise of the last Cetra; ancient creatures that were closely associated with the planets and their powers. Through her immense charm she had convinced Cloud to be her bodyguard, an agreement prompted by the arrival of operatives of the ShinRa Electric Company's Turks organization, who had been ordered to capture Aeris. Indeed, she had powers they hungered for, assuming that Aeris could lead him to a mythical land of fertility known as the "Promised Land", which President ShinRa expected to be ripe with Mako energy that could be easily harvested. But Aeris was well protected, at least for a little while.

Cloud subconsciously smiled at the thought of their discussion while getting to know each other more closely. Along the way, she claimed that her first boyfriend had been a First Class Soldier, and though Cloud had his suspicions about who it was, he had never mentioned it. But on the few occasions he had spent with Aeris, he was most certain he had seen the image of Sephiroth reflect in her eyes. She claimed it had been Zack, and it may have been the truth, but the blond was almost certain that the General had been in the picture as well. Everyone knew that after Angeal's death and Genesis' disappearance, Zack and Sephiroth had been very close. However, no matter how much he tried probing for the truth, Aeris, who more or less grew up with Sephiroth as her big brother, denied the affections as nothing other than purely platonic. Cloud frowned and twitched his head as if he wished to shake the thought of that fiend out of his mind. Fighting against the image, he slowly returned to the memories of Aeris.

Eventually, ShinRa destroyed Sector 7 and many of the rebel group members, whilst the Turks retrieved Aeris at a careless moment. The remaining members of the opposition infiltrated ShinRa's headquarters to rescue the flower girl. After a difficult but successful mission Aeris was free and the group befriended Nanaki who joined them as a loyal warrior. They managed to escape whilst most of the personnel in the building, including President ShinRa, were killed. Later though, ShinRa's body as well as the remains of Jenova were lost and Cloud suspected Sephiroth had returned from his presumed death. The unmistakable form of Masamune impaled through the President's back had been enough to make him seriously worry that they had been wrong in assuming he was dead. Once again the fiend was invading his life.

And to think that the blond had once idolized the great General. Well, not only that… he had even been touched by the grace of Kadaj, Sephiroth's sharp intelligence encased in an appealing shell of flesh. Oh yes, that slim body, swaying and teasing with the movements of a cat. Cloud released a deep sigh and a hardly noticeable moan as he licked his lips at the thoughts of those greyish-blue feline eyes, framed with long, black lashes, those thin but shapely lips frozen in an eternal shadow of a smile, the tiny nose, the pointy chin, the swanlike neck merging with pronounced collarbones above a desirable torso; a torso that narrowed towards those firm hips and muscular, slim thighs. Kadaj possessed all the 'S's that made him so irresistible; he was a smooth, slick, sadistic, sexy, silver and sizzling hot little sneering bastard. A wave of arousal washed over the blond, but it was received with disgust and rejection.

Cloud sat up in the bed with a sudden jerk, listening to the darkness around him. His unexpected rush of anger made Greybone jump from the bed and hide under the chair next to it. He hissed and exposed his sharp little fangs, clearly demonstrating his disapproval of such scare tactics, but Cloud was bothered by other things and paid no attention. Where did those thoughts come from? What made him think about Kadaj now and why with such a warm current of emotions washing through him?

"Insane!" Cloud bellowed from within, but his words floated into his vicinity, arguing with himself.

"No! You can't think like that about any of the brothers. They were the very reason for all this pain and they deserve what pain torments them now!"

He jumped out of bed, pacing back and forth in his dark bedroom whilst nervously biting his nails and continuously mumbling to himself. Words were flowing fast and seemingly senselessly out of his mind and through his mouth.

"Sephiroth said he intended to use a powerful spell to fatally injure the planet. Yes, he did. He did. He said he did so that he could merge with all the energy of Gaea. He wanted POWER! Granting him god-like powers. He killed Aeris! I had to place her body to rest! I had to BURY her. I had to bury HER! The last of her species. Jenova had killed all of her people and then he did... he killed HER."

Cloud turned to the window, howling towards the silver moon; "You DESERVED to die you bastard. Burn with all the agony you caused others!"

But as the memories came rushing back, his voice softened.

"You made me doubt my memories, my powers and claimed… you claimed…" the blond sunk down on the bed. "You said I was a part of the same shameful past as you. I hate you… I hate all you are. You deserved this…"

Suddenly, the image of Aeris burst into his inner canvas and seeded a tremendous headache that brought him to his knees in front of the toilet vomiting. Cramps in his stomach were emptying him of his rage and fatigue settled in his limbs, making them heavy like rocks as he, with a trembling body, entered the bedroom yet again. He had brushed his teeth and rinsed his mouth properly to be rid of the foul sour taste of acid. The strong taste of the mouthwash was still lingering on his breath as he sighed, sinking down between the sheets.

Cloud had no idea when he had drifted into sleep, but from the corners of his mind he heard Greybone call for him, meowing and scratching the side of the bed. The blond smiled in his half dormant state; he knew that the cat was asking for permission to jump on the bed and join the master. Without even opening his eyes, Cloud patted the surface of the mattress and called for the cat.

"But only for tonight." he added. "I'm too tired to argue with you."

Cloud felt his body bobbing like a buoy in water as Greybone jumped up at his feet. It felt oddly heavy and unusual and thus the flaxen lifted his head a little to inspect the situation. Cloud saw the shimmering grey fur disappear underneath the blanket at the end of the bed and smilingly relished the warmth from the small body brushing against his legs. Whiskers and a wet little nose, exuding hot puffs of air, was probing Cloud's sensitive skin; tickling and sending delightful impulses through his body. A raspy, naughty little tongue began tasting his thighs and Cloud smiled in his sleepy state, moaning for the kitten to stop playing, but Greybone only responded by disobediently pressing his little body against the master. The fur was silky smooth and soft and tingled deliciously against his skin as it advanced up; almost like a gentle touch, almost like the softest kiss, almost like a breath…

The notion of the lips that teased and tasted his skin tore the sleep from his eyes and with his heart pounding in the throat, Cloud lifted the blanket ever so cautiously. There was something moving deep inside the darkness underneath that private world and young Strife tried to focus to take the silvery shape into view, though he lacked the courage to reach down. There was something cosseting him with tender pleasure, turning his entire body into a fervent erogenous zone and he found no will to be able to resist. It wasn't until he discerned his erect, throbbing member disappearing into Kadaj's mouth that he ripped the blanket off his body, horrified at the trap he was in.

Cloud tried to fend off the invader, but it was far too late for Kadaj's exquisite seduction conquered the hostility of the blond. The silver fiend sought out every sensitive spot and etched his presence into Cloud's consciousness as he kept on playing, licking and sucking. Witnessing Kadaj nibbling on the sensitive foreskin before completely devouring Cloud's offering, generated a tremendous burst of elation and the floodgates within crumbled as the blond inadvertently locked the silvery head against his thrusting hips; moans and encouraging gasps escaping him without restraint. Kadaj's mouth was rhythmically sucking and milking every single drop out of Cloud, and as befitted his feline resemblance, the deviant fiend licked his lips with great satisfaction like a kitten that has fed on cream.

Shame replaced ecstasy, and once the climax had ebbed enough for Cloud to regain control over his senses, he threw himself at the silver boy and pushed him out of bed. Humiliated and disgusted, the blond allowed his fury to rain down on Kadaj, never reflecting over the fact that the remnant of Sephiroth didn't pose any resistance.

"You son-of-a-bitch!" Cloud growled through clenched teeth. "I defeated you once, I'll destroy you again."

His anger sparked through the eyes and hatred fumed through his breath.

"How did you get into my life again?"

The blow directed at Kadaj, drew blood from the silent mouth. Cloud roared; "I'd rather you had stayed in my memories. I fucking despise you, you depraved puppet. Die once 'n for all! Die, you debauched piece of shit!"

The kick in Kadaj's stomach made the pale, silvery boy curl up on the floor, protecting his sore and tender body against the fury that was ravaging him. Cloud kept on pummelling the body until his strength almost broke. Beaten to the floor and defeated by Cloud's rage, Kadaj whispered through bruised, swollen lips;

"I can't help what I am. I was created from a source more ancient than human kind and my mind was tampered with to be all that noble people such as YOURSELF, wanted me to be. I was created by the likes of you to be your tool," he spat with repulsion to emphasize the hypocrisy in Cloud's reasoning before he continued. "And when you no longer needed spawns like me, you discarded us like we meant nothing; like you did with my brother. So who are you to pass judgement on me?"

No answers or even the slightest response, and the boy went on.

"As for being debauched… I don't regret anything. I may not have my powers to pose a threat to you, but beware, dear brother, there will come a time when the tables will turn once again…"

At that instant his body dissolved into a halo of glowing mist and reassumed the shape of Greybone, who cowered away from the angry master, hissing with the little dignity that he had left. Cloud felt the urge to deliver the final blow to that fragile frame, but couldn't bring himself to be so sadistic; not even when knowing that the spirit of Kadaj was harboured inside it.

Through a lightning bolt of grief, Aeris possessed Cloud's mind and he sunk to the ground screaming as a shattering headache overwhelmed him. The Cetra was angry and the hurt in her eyes was undeniable. Her voice grew strong from the great beyond, washing over Strife in waves of shivering ether.

"You called for him through your dreams, Cloud…"

Cloud rolled onto his back; audibly announcing to the world the suffering he had to endure. He felt as if his brain was being ripped from the grail of the skull, overloading every neuron with impulses of pain. But Aeris was relentless.

"You called for him… You refuse to listen…"

"I'm sorry!" Cloud hollered into the night, eyes screwed shut and teeth tightly clenched with ache.

"Help him! Help… me…"

He was no longer listening to the guilt wrapping around him, he just longed for freedom, to be set free from this haunting madness. He panted heavily, whilst sweat broke through every pore on his body, making him shiver with cold and exhaustion. His tears were held back by unrelenting perseverance, but the images of the hurt reflecting off that tormented face of the silver haired boy made him release the words that set him free from this immobilizing agony.

"Forgive me, Kadaj!"

In an instant the world stopped spinning and the night quieted like the calmness ascending after violent thunder. With great effort and aching joints, the soldier got up on his feet, and stumbled into the hall and out to the back yard, calling for his beloved pet; to no avail. No matter how hard he pushed his voice the cat was nowhere to be found. Cloud searched tirelessly around the vicinity of his home for hours until the chill of the night forced him back into the comfort of his modest house. The night had won this battle.

Dejected and sad, Cloud reconciled with the thought of his stupidity and locked the door behind himself when a meek sound like the delicate vibration of a finely tuned violin string, hit his ears. He listened and followed the sound as it appeared again. The beautiful strike of a crisp note led him to a bundle of silver fur hiding in the back of his hall closet. The blond smiled with a sigh of relief as he reached out to pick up the frightened cat. He snuggled it all the way to the bedroom and placed it next to himself on the spare pillow.

"I'm sorry," the blond whispered regretfully and re-established their friendship by delicately scratching the smooth tomcat behind the ears. As a response, Greybone scent-marked his master with obsessions of ownership, disguised in the gesture of benevolence as it rubbed his head against Cloud's palms. Watching the cat purring soothingly in safety, the blond uttered the words that lingered on in confusion, but veiled in the fatigue that lured him into sleep; "I like you a lot, you silly, little shit… I don't regret… anything…"

Whether Cloud said that to Greybone or to Kadaj was never revealed even to himself, for shortly thereafter he fell asleep and through the entire night until the midday thereafter, he dreamt of nothing.


	8. The Young Soldier

**THE YOUNG SOLDIER**

Vincent was standing outside the door number six hundred and ninety two. Weeks of research had led him here. After his tormenting nightmares he had embarked on a journey to find the truth behind the man called Sephiroth. He had a past that linked him strongly to this young general and as a gesture of respect, not only to Sephiroth and himself Vincent owed it to Lucrecia to find out what had happened to her son. He had never given Sephiroth another thought after being sealed in the ShinRa mansion in a sarcophagus. After his rescue, the Daemon lord had joined Cloud and Avalanche, and true to his reclusive character, Vincent had even managed to repress Sephiroth into a secluded corner of his mind where he had stayed until recently.

Retracing the footsteps of the seraph had led Vincent to this specific building, to this specific door, and following a few determined knocks on the door, a middle-aged woman invited him in.

They sat in the spotlessly clean kitchen, surrounded by delicious fragrances from food and the fresh lilies on the table. Vincent remained partly hidden behind his mantle, listening to a remarkable story from a former laboratory assistant who had been appointed to care for Sephiroth, from the time he was a child until he became independent of surveillance and could be trusted as a loyal Soldier of the ShinRa Army. Over a cup of freshly ground and brewed coffee, along with delicious morsels of both salty and sweet character, the woman, whose name was Sïana Khin, engaged in the dialogue.

"He was an intelligent toddler," the elegant lady pointed out.

Her short, auburn hair was in nice harmony with the tanned skin and accentuated the gracefully aging complexion. Miss Khin radiated of gentleness, but there was something firm and respectable written in the delicate lines around her smiling eyes. Indeed, Vincent felt she was a woman of panache and was comfortable discussing Sephiroth's childhood with her. She went on and he kept on staring at her ruby red lips, emphasized with a matching lip liner. The makeup was very tasteful and brought out her femininity in a delightful way.

"He had an incredible thirst for knowledge and though he spent most of his days being indoctrinated with all the information you can imagine, mostly about war, he still lay on his bed for hours on end and read books."

"Books," Vincent raised an eyebrow.

"Oh yes, he read all the classics, and then ploughed through modern work… you name it… he has read it. I think it was his way of escaping reality. The books opened up another world where he was free from all the experiments. You see," she leaned over as she spoke with warmth. "Sephiroth used to ask so much about the world above. He was trapped in that artificial environment day and night and his greatest pleasure was when I told him about what was going on outside."

Miss Khin laughed at a specific memory and felt the need to share.

"I once bought him some cream cakes. It was not allowed for anyone to alter his strict diet and so I took a big risk sneaking that in… but watching his face completely dissolve in that joy as he took the first bite and felt the taste of vanilla cream... it was worth it. His eyes were shut and he panted with each bite like a starved animal…"

Miss Khin took a sip out of her coffee and shook her head at Vincent, while continuing with tearful eyes; but the tears were not all sad.

"He was in heaven, Mr. Valentine. That boy was in heaven with each bite. He was never the one to show emotions… the Gods know that the professor and Lord ShinRa had chased that out of him… but he threw himself in my arms. He was only ten, but he already knew then what it was like to appreciate life. All the highly technological equipment given to him to play with and explore was something most kids would have envied him for, but little Sephy was thrilled beyond words each time I came with cream cakes. For him that was worth more than all the toys and computer games he had access to."

Vincent nodded and indeed, he did understand what suffering was. Though he could not reveal it to Miss Khin, he knew it was one of the features he shared with the seraph.

"What was he subjected to apart from the normal experiments of strength and endurance, Miss Khin?" he asked, somewhat regretting he had to continue on a tragic topic, but there were so many unanswered questions.

"Oh please," the lady cut in divertingly. "Call me Sïana."

Vincent lifted his cup and stared at the black liquid for a little while before he put it down again. The fragrance of the brew was fabulous and his taste buds were longing for the flavor he denied himself. But after a few encouragements and a new portion of hor d'oeuvres, he gave in to the temptation.

"Mr Valentine, Sephiroth suffered through some hideous experiments that left his body shaking and he had to be kept high on sedatives until he healed in order to prevent him from killing himself. It's hardly a life worthy of even an animal. They had tried everything from heat, cold, cuts, poisons, mental torture, exhaustion and even starvation for months until his body almost consumed itself." Miss Khin revealed, and then posed a rhetorical question. "Did you know that starvation is an extremely painful way of dying?"

She scoffed at the thought. "I am surprised he survived it all. No ordinary human would have."

They were both silent for a long time, but when Miss Khin left her seat from the kitchen table to fill up their cups, she abandoned her gloomy thoughts and turned to a brighter path of memories. She bore a mischievous smile on her face and flashed him with an impish glance as she exposed an enticing little secret about the mysterious young man.

"You know, he was a little devil at times…"

"How do you mean, Sïana?" Vincent asked with apparent curiosity, thanking her for the fresh coffee.

"He matured very quickly." she answered and arranged the green cardigan over her torso.

It was long-sleeved, light, knitwear under which she wore a black top, her neck decorated with accessories that were rather daring although not clashing with her maturity. Vincent saw she wore high-heeled velvet stilettos which matched her black top, and a pair of brown, bootleg trousers, secured with a designed leather belt. Her classy outfit told of a woman of expensive taste. Vincent had not noticed any traces of a man and drew the conclusion that this was an independent lady who was the mistress of her establishment and did not bow to anyone's will. She had been a good assistant to care for Sephiroth.

Vincent listened as she revealed a tantalizing anecdote about a mature mind in a young body.

"He soon began asking questions about girls. At first, of course, I was thinking he had read so much and developed curiosity from there, but when his sheets got stained every other morning, I realized I was no longer dealing with a boy. He had become a young man. "

The question just escaped Vincent, but it was too late to take it back. It had already echoed between the walls.

"Did he ever approach you?"

Miss Khin smiled without returning his glance, and took a bite out of her avocado-pesto croutons.

"Not directly at first," she explained. "You see, I was his only physical contact of gentleness. My job, which was supposed to be only temporary, was to take care of him. I had spent years bathing him, reading good night stories…"

"He must have liked you," Vincent interrupted bluntly, but not for the purpose of being rude. It was merely a thought that came out loud. "And you must have liked him to stay so long."

"I never questioned him, Mr Valentine…"

"Please, Sïana," he reached out and placed a hand on hers. "Call me Vincent."

She smiled and agreed with a benevolent nod while continuing. "I figured, he was not my child and hence it was not up to me to teach him right from wrong. When he asked something, I answered but I knew that his little mind was so overwhelmed by commands and harsh words from days to months on end, that he would just like to have some peace and quiet. Not another teacher. I think he respected that, for after a while he started communicating on his own…. And following a few more years… yes, he did come closer."

Miss Khin saw the slight twitch in Vincent's face and understood his scepticism regarding the concept of an older woman and a young man, but she didn't bother to defend herself for whatever secrets lay in the depth of Sephiroth's desires, and the moments she shared with him, could only be understood through experience and the essence of the moment.

"It was a long time ago, Vincent," she snapped him out of his trance. "I was twenty-seven and no matter what you may think… I used to be a real dish."

Vincent allowed himself to smile back at her, assuring she still radiated a captivating charm. The way she moved her hands and long fingers to express herself more completely than solely with words, and the fact that she welcomed her femininity to accompany her strength, gave Sïana an undeniable appeal.

"Well, Sephiroth was turning sixteen, but I tell you his body was way older. He had pronounced muscles, but such youthful skin. He was about to lose the last drops of his 'baby-fat', which was showing in his round face rather than the rest of the body. His jaws were still given a more childish character due to that and it was just about the only thing that told of his age. It was a bit controversial, no doubt, but it was between him and me… initiated by him and cherished by both."

Vincent was captured by the light atmosphere of the anecdote and relished every little detail he could imbibe through Sïana's memories. The ether was vibrating with pleasant thoughts and the gunman slipped without notice into the warmth in his belly and listened attentively.

"Well, you see, Vincent, Sephiroth had several assistants, but after a while he demanded us in a specific order. I always had the morning and night-shift. I call it night-shift, but in fact it was from late afternoon until he went to bed. He came back from an extensive session and was completely famished. I had prepared his food and his bed. He only had to shower, eat and go to bed."

"But he didn't," Vincent threw in impatiently.

"He took it in a different order," Sïana laughed. "Sephiroth ate his main meal, but saved the cream cakes until he got out of shower. He didn't put on his pajamas as he usually did, still that child within, you know, and it was about then I understood that the pup was beginning to lift his back leg to relieve himself… if you know what I mean."

The two adults burst into laughter, but there were no traces of mockery in their enjoyment of the situation. Everyone had been at that turning point, but Sephiroth's social isolation had delayed this process slightly. His mind was superior in some aspects, but still a child in others. He had certain interaction with others, but it was mainly on the battlefields and thus his approaches were blunt and typified by his lingering innocence.

"Anyway," the mature beauty continued; she leaned comfortingly back in the chair, legs crossed and one hand playing with that exquisite necklace. "Sephy slipped under the covers and asked me to bring the cream cakes to the bed. I set them down on his bedside table and was about to leave when he posed the most peculiar question… at least for someone at his age. Oh…!" she suddenly exclaimed placing the hands on her cheeks. "It was such an incredible night! I still remember every little detail."

The enthusiasm in Sïana' voice was unmistakable as she burst into gesticulations and burning eagerness, exposing Sephiroth's growing desires. He had asked her to stay for a while more to read for him. The request had been very unnatural for someone of his age, but as he showed the female assistant the book he had dishonestly taken from the grand City library, she understood that the night would be out of the ordinary. It was an old book with an orange cover on which there was a naked, luscious female in a lace veil exposed in a simple yet artistically erotic way.

"I still remember the cover," Sïana told him dreamingly, clutching her hands to her chest as if she was holding the book near her heart. "The girl had an hour-glass figure, her curly hair arranged beautifully with pearl bands on top of her head, exposing the white neck. Since then, Sephiroth has had an obsession with the neck. He loved that fragile boundary between logic and emotions and it was a powerful erogenous zone on him. But returning to the book, the girl on the cover turned away from the viewer, but you still could see her breasts and I think that profoundly fascinated Sephiroth. It was a book by the most fabulous erotica writer of all time. And the name of the book was… let me think…oh yes, Little Birds."

"A collection of erotic novels that the author had written for a small amount of money per page and sold it to the wealthy because nothing similar could be bought at that time," Vincent cut in, thereby demonstrating he was well aware of the collection, and thus assuring he was not unfamiliar to desires in solitude. "Little Birds was her first erotic novel, followed by the Delta of Venus, which was written as an erotic adventure, a journey a lady makes from country to country and all her interactions with people."

"Yes," Sïana agreed. "I'm surprised you know it. Not many people do, although she was a great author."

Vincent nodded and helped himself to more hor d'oeuvres. "It was groundbreaking and explicit without even a hint of vulgarity in it. It was an erotic masterpiece. Yes, I know about it. I've spent many years in solitude reading… and so, I've stumbled upon many forgotten books."

Sïana nodded and smiled back as she continued.

"Knowing Sephy was becoming a young man, Lord ShinRa had agreed to have the surveillance cameras in the room switched off from six in the afternoon until nine the next morning. Sephiroth had asked me to join him in the bed, but I was so afraid to get close to him. He was alluring… even though I knew we were eleven years apart. He asked me ever so politely and so I couldn't refuse him. I sat on the sheets, whilst he was underneath, but I felt his heat almost as if I had been there with him. I felt uncomfortable by his piercing gaze, but I didn't want to make him feel awkward for something he couldn't help. After all, it was natural for him."

Sïana took a swift pause as she delivered a deep sigh.

"Well, he gave me the book, dampened the light in the room and just kept on staring at me as I began reading the short story he had chosen."

Her hands moved up to her mouth, tracing the contours as if she was wiping every sweet word from the symmetrical lips.

"I remember my voice was trembling, my heart was pounding like crazy and I couldn't even get past the first page even though it contained no erotica. He sat up asking me why I was uncomfortable. Can you imagine," Miss Khin threw a glance along with the question at Vincent, but went on without expecting any answers.

Vincent could see the olive eyes of the woman come alive as she submerged in the depth of these private memories, but she gathered strength and courageously told him scene by scene.

"He felt abashed, thinking he was doing something wrong… again. After so many shouts of 'You are wrong!', 'You are weak!', 'Do better!', 'Show no weakness!', 'Show no mercy!' and 'On your feet!' I felt such guilt leaving him feeling awkward and so, I remained with him, resuming reading. As I reached the explicit details I had to fight to keep my voice steady. I had never before read erotica out loud, but I must say, it had a profound effect on me. And Sephiroth… his cheeks were blushing, eye glistening… hungry. He just kept staring at me, not saying a word during that whole hour it took for me to read the story. When I had finished I put the book aside and tried to knock some sense into my own head, by breaking that force between us and I asked him how he felt. He answered from his position ever so calmly 'I am burning'."

Vincent felt his heart race and tried to hide it as well as he could; quenching every beat that could awaken the Daemon inside him .The visions of how Sephiroth guided Sïana's hands to that 'burning place' and climaxed shortly after the most superficial touch, etched into Vincent's mind and repeated over and over as Miss Khin went on.

"He said to me, still pulsating under my hands, 'I dream of you when I read that story'. I was numb, yet sensitive at the same time, immobilized, yet trembling with excitement. He kept on saying that he wanted to experience all that he had read in the books. It haunted his dreams, his mind and he couldn't be rid of the fantasies that had taken over his day as well as the night. He said to me 'Please, teach me.'"

Vincent bit his lips, but he had an overwhelming curiosity pressing questions against his vocal cord. He had taken Sephiroth in his own dream… or had it been reality? If Sephiroth was only fascinated by women, then it must have all been a dream. It must have, for Vincent himself had only felt desire towards women, and thus a seed of relief started blooming within. Maybe it was all a dream.

"How long were you lovers?"

"We were whenever his appetite dictated so," Sïana sighed. "We all were."

Vincent cocked his head; "Pardon me?"

The woman smiled at Vincent and leaned closer to him with a valkyrian flash in her face.

"Reading erotic novels was the spark that ignited a very explosive mix of emotions, frustrations, desire for gratification, lust, and fascination for the opposite sex… as well as the same sex. Sephiroth discovered he could desire all as he went through each chapter of the book. He loved luscious hips as much as he adored thrusting against firm ones. He had an insatiable appetite and was allowed to roam and play to vent the pressure inside. As he entered and was well into his seventeenth year, closing in on eighteen, he was expected to have that all behind himself and the battlefields and wars became his vent instead. What else can I say? He was allowed to play until they found better ways to channel his energy. They had injected him with an almost lethal dose of Mako and the following year he was the most successful warlord on the fields."

The woman sighed and her face was shrouded with sadness as she said; "And the rest is history… just like him."

Vincent prepared to leave and thanked the lady for her kind reception. As they parted in the doorway, Sïana added a few words that attached to the young man like a nutrient to his soul.

"I know I might be the only one thinking this way but… I wish he was still alive. He was a good boy, Mr. Valentine. He wasn't born corrupt. WE did that to him. And we owed him more than to just discard him like an animal."

Vincent nodded and though a man of few words, he released his opinion with the sincerity of a saint spirit.

"I wish the same."

The doors to the elevator were about to close when Miss Khin caught up with Vincent and handed a small booklet over to him, one hand placed on the sensor to prevent the elevator from closing.

"What is this?" he asked and looked at the address given.

"I saw how your eye lit with desire the moment I revealed Sephiroth's omnivorous nature. If you want to know more about his prowess then perhaps you should read this. And… if you really have lived a long time in solitude, maybe it's time for you to do something about it and rediscover the living. Start with yourself."

With that she released the doors and Vincent left the Pearl Towers, one of the most posh areas of the upper class. On his way home he opened the little booklet but couldn't find anything other than blank pages, Puzzled and tired, he put the booklet into his drawer and allowed for it to drift out of his mind.


	9. Memories Of Torment

**Memories of Torment**

 **T** seng turned on the lights to his apartment and sighed deeply as if he attempted to exhale all the anguish overtaking him, feeding off his sanity for weeks. He hung up his jacket on the clothes-hanger and cast a disconcerted look towards the bedroom as he passed it by on his way to the kitchen. Not another night. He hated the nights; they were filled with nightmares and perverted desires that slithered through the barriers of the subconscious to gain access to realism.

After filling his glass with a hot cup of strong coffee, Tseng entered his living room, which was usually very light and welcoming, but now, it was dressed in obscurity and shadows. He walked up to the piano and put the cup on the lid whilst taking his seat. He placed his hands over the keys and started playing. Key after key gave its own modest distinctive note and gave birth to a soothing little tune, but as the banging of annoyed neighbors hammered through the walls, Tseng closed the cover over the keys.

To delay his approaching dreams, Tseng turned on the TV and sunk into the depth of the aubergine coloured corner sofa. But the blue rays on the screen hitting against his retina only sprinkled his eyes with invisible dust and sand, making Tseng drift unnoticed into sleep.

From the bottom of the dark well reaching deep inside his mind, a faint sound broke through; a promise of a living world outside. His waking consciousness followed the path of the faint sound to the source way above the mouth of the well; like a child reaching for the hand of a mother and letting it guide to safety. Except, this wasn't safety and it wasn't until the eerie glow in a set of feline eyes focused on him, accompanied by a vicious grin, that the chill turned his blood into ice. Kadaj's voice was unmistakable and the Turk found himself bound and immobilized on a table, body exposed to the cruelty of an insane mind.

Arms and legs were fettered by iron shackles, stretching the limbs far from the torso. Tseng was in torn clothes, lips bruised and throat hurting to the point where he couldn't speak. There wasn't anything other than meager whimpers hoarsely escaping him when trying to figure out how he had ended up in this situation, but the sharp ache in his swollen throat prevented him from raising his voice. Each slight vibration of his vocal cords felt like a madman grating every word into the inflamed flesh and giving rise to the taste of blood in his mouth. Or was it? No… the taste originated from further up in the cavity… from his bruised, split lips bleeding into his mouth and coagulating in his gullet.

"Soooo…" A demon in the shape of Kadaj veered in the damp crypt, turning towards the Turk leader and Tseng jolted at the horrific notion of the faceless fiend now taking him into focus.

Kadaj looked as if his face had been eroded away like that on a limestone statue, yet the words he spoke vibrated through the ether. The walls of the crypt were covered with mould and gave off a stinging, pungent odor that nestled into a bruised head along with malicious words promising more pain. With a blood stained, double edged blade threateningly gliding over a tense torso, Kadaj kept on forcing confessions from Tseng who continuously spewed defiance and hatred in return. The torture went on for hours. Elena was the one to lose consciousness first. She lay quiet and motionless on an adjacent grave pedestal, but her shallow breaths told of the life still lingering inside her battered body.

"Have you ever danced with the silver Serpent?"

The question was enigmatic and strange, and different from what was asked every single night. This was a new feature in his dreams and Tseng battled his fears on what he had to endure until the sunlight in the waking world would save him from this hell.

Both Kadaj and Loz were faceless, pale shadows of Sephiroth, whereas Yazoo who stood at the head end of the pedestal, holding Tseng's head in a steady grip, was more human-like but with a stale expression. He was staring into the void, not responding to any commands. It was almost as if his being was dwelling in trance, only reacting to the harsh commands from his mad, younger brother.

The delicate chink of vibrating metal called for Tseng's attention for it was carried on the breeze of alarm, foretelling of danger. The Turk made an effort to move his head, but was firmly locked to the stone bed by Yazoo. The world started spinning. From the shadows of light dancing on the walls, Tseng could discern the silhouette of Loz, skipping around like an insane child overtaken by Moon fever. He was jovial and hysterically laughing at the gruesome tortures Kadaj was suggesting; sprightly repeating the terrifying words of what was to come.

"Disembowelment… disembowelment… disembowelment… disembowelment…"

Loz would not stop saying it over and over, and danced around the pedestal holding a cage with a few hungry rats. The animals were agitated and starved and eagerly chewing on the pale fingers sticking inside the cage until bits of bone would pierce the flesh. But Loz didn't seem to feel a thing. Tseng started shivering; a physical manifestation of fear, which only boosted the malicious joy of the faceless brothers. Yazoo was just staring ahead and didn't even twitch a muscle as the first incision ran across Tseng's stomach and opened up his belly. The Turk swallowed his pride and writhed with agony, screaming and begging for mercy. He could vividly sense the resistance of the muscles as Kadaj forcefully had to saw his way through the tissue with the blunt knife. Loz bent over the gaping, bleeding wound and audibly inhaled the steam released from the eviscerated, shivering body of Tseng. The Turk foamed at the mouth with suffering but was held down by Yazoo, not being able to move as much as his head. His eyes were wide and milky, like those on a corpse, sweat covering his cold skin, and teeth cracking under the pressure of his clenched jaws.

As the first rat dug its way through the open wound and nestled in between the bowels, ravaging and chewing at the tissues, Tseng's inhuman groaning filled the air with sweet honey for the ears of the devils of this forsaken world. Then the rest of the animals were released.

Though not able to move, Tseng felt every inch the rats were advancing inside him. The snap of the bowels, the stench of the colon as the bacteria and faeces flooded his cavities, the sour, pungent odour of stomach contents escaping when the acidic environment poured out. He was being consumed alive to the chanting and dancing of the insane executioners; except for Yazoo. His eyes were still fixed ahead, not moving or even blinking.

Tseng was silently praying to the God Titan, hoping his life would end quickly; the God that had once given him life could perhaps take it now, but his prayers were denied. He was alone and dying by the hands of his greatest enemies; that was the most painful part to accept. That they had won! He was staring with ache and misery at the man above his head and when the Gods had abandoned him in this never-ending nightmare, he called out to the only person he hoped to reach.

"Ya… Ya-zoo… Yazoo," Tseng panted in uneven, cut words of desperation, but he received no reactions. "Ya-zoo…pleh… please… I-I-I'm beg-ging you…"

At long last, there was only one thing to say to break the vicious curse that spellbound the silver haired young man into apathy. Tseng gathered his strength, and with nails digging into the flesh of his palms to control the galloping misery just enough to be able to speak, he brought forth what he never thought was inside his heart.

"I-I for-give... you."

A single teardrop fell from Yazoo's feline eyes and landed on the face of the Turk, leaving a trail of soothing oil on his skin and the rats abruptly stopped moving inside the ravaged body. The harsh grip around Tseng's face was eased slightly, only enough for the Turk to feel the heat from the palms dissipate and he added short of breath; "Pl-ease… forgive… me too…"

Yazoo broke his hypnosis and gazed down on Tseng, slowly bending over the frightened, battered warrior and whispered softly into his ears.

"Can… can you save me?"

Tseng stared up into the glowing eyes of the silver-haired brother and nodded frantically, face distorted by the pain from his gut as a rat chewed his spleen in half.

"By the Gods, Yazoo, please… kill me!" Tseng cried. "I'll drag you back from the mouth of hell if I have to, just kill me. Kill me!"

Yazoo nodded and let go of Tseng. With determined steps he walked up to the hidden shadow-like remnants of Kadaj's evil and twisted the dagger out of his hands. Continuing with fluent movements, Yazoo swerved around his vicious brother, circling smoothly behind him and effortlessly severing the head from the torso with one clean strike. The body of the demon collapsed and was left convulsing on the floor, whilst the other, Loz's eroded shadow, angered by the obvious betrayal, attacked with full force. But Yazoo's desperation to escape the shadow lands knew no boundaries, and thus he clashed with his own blood to defeat it.

Tseng was beyond himself with pain and he hardly noticed being lifted from the pedestal. The words 'Stay with me' lingered on in his ears, but the growing darkness around him promised release, and thus he gave into slipping away.

The white noise brought Tseng to the real world. It was dark out and there was nothing on the TV anymore; not even the commercials that boasted about superior products for low prices. As Tseng leaned forward, supporting his elbows on his knees, he noticed sweat pearling down his face and chest. His shirt was wet and the fabric was cooling his armpits. It made him feel dirty and despite the fact that it was late night, Tseng decided to take a shower to wash away the disgust and cleanse away the nightmares.

Water was pearling down his body like a blessing from heaven, caressing and soothing every inch of the frozen skin. Tseng leaned against the wall, sighing deeply and eyes slowly drifting shut. His hair was sticking to his face, neck and shoulders, but the lovely Turk made no attempts to remove the web of strands framing his appealing features. He just enjoyed the heat; enjoyed it for a long time.

The steam rose around him, filling his nose cavity and moisturising the sore throat and dry eyes. Mr. Sandman had paid him a visit earlier, leaving his brown gaze grainy and tired, but the steam eased the discomfort. Tseng had no idea how long he had been in the shower, but his wrinkled fingertips suggested it was time to get out. With a towel wrapped around his slim waist, Tseng prepared for some final grooming before going to bed. He brushed his long, sable hair that smelled of cinnamon and Gaiac wood, a perfect fragrance matching his persona. From the glass shelves under the oval mirror, Tseng picked up his favorite eau de toilet and spoiled his senses with a few puffs of spray.

Pleased with his appearance and evening toilette, Tseng entered the kitchen to have a glass of water. The kitchen was partly lit by the moonlight curiously sneaking through the window and playfully bouncing off every shiny surface it could dance on. The night was beautiful despite the frightful dreams it brought about from the other side, but those were over now and Tseng allowed for the cool water to trickle down his throat and pour delight into his body. The large gulps soared into the night and filled his vicinity, but the guttural sounds were suddenly intercepted by the softest voice followed by the gentlest touch on his shoulder. The glass shattered on the floor and Tseng jolted with fear; swirling around to defend himself with the knife he grabbed from the knife-stand next to the sink.

As a bodyguard, his mind and body was trained to react on reflex and hence he didn't even take notice of who was standing there, before he went to attack. The intruder, however, was a skilled warrior, knowing precisely how to avoid the assault. Tseng threw himself towards the pale skinned invader, but the stranger was smooth and evasive in his movements, almost like a snake. Tseng realized he needed to rethink his attack-strategies, for blunt force was not an option against such a skilful opponent. He stopped for a swift moment at a respectable distance, knife still ready to strike, and asked:

"Who the hell are you, and how did you get in?"

"I've come to collect your promise," came the response.

The voice was gentle and kind and soothing to the mind. Tseng brushed his wet strands aside and eased the grip on his knife a little, but never to the point of letting go. With the determined command 'lights!' the kitchen was lit and the stranger took the form of a well-known face.

"Yazoo?!"

The silver haired spawn of beauty moved cautiously towards a chair with the graceful subtlety of a geisha. His slender body seemingly hovered over the floor, face kept in the staleness of a delicate porcelain doll as he assumed his position at the table. With both hands placed on the wooden surface, Yazoo cast a glance at Tseng, eyes asking for permission to bring about a conversation.

"What…" Tseng began with an exhale, but then stole a breath as he tried again. "What are you doing here?"

Yazoo produced a faint smile that only manifested in the mere shadow of a movement on the lips, and explained that his purpose was to warn of an approaching danger of dark bodies emerging from darkness; a vast army of pain and horror that would sweep the lands like locus and leave devastation to seed fear in order to bring about power that would reach across the stars. The explanation was enigmatic and lacked logic that could be anchored to a sane reality, but he made no effort to dismiss it as a fantasy-fetus formed inside the damaged womb of a deranged mind.

Whilst the horrific events of a possible future were painted before his eyes, Tseng lost himself in the gentle character of the young man at the opposite side of the table. They were sitting in front of one another, separated only by the curtain of light emitted down on them above the table. The white Crystal Snow roses on the table marvelled in the vase with sturdy stems and rich dark-green velvety leaves, completing the perfect image of a captivating beauty as Yazoo's delicate features merged with Nature's masterpiece. It was a snapshot of excellence that spread into Tseng's mind like a nourishing flavor; Yazoo on a bed of snow-white roses, surrounded by petals as delicate and as fragile as each crystalline flake of the frozen water.

Noticing the distant scrutiny of his being, Yazoo lowered his gaze, displaying resolute shyness in the presence of the man he had come to develop feelings for. The sensations were alien and bewildering for him as well. As a spawn of Jenova, and like his brothers, he was created to destroy and to scar all that Nature had intended. Jenova was the alternative God; the ancient, untamed power and the other extreme to the Lifestream. It was a power coexisting with the light, but keeping the balance by the feeding off the brightness to expand the obscurity that was intimately intertwined in the creation of life itself. One could not exist without the other; never emancipated or life would never exist. Two powers constantly conflicting and shifting in a delicate dance to provide for such marvellous events like a caterpillar extracting the very life out of a sturdy leaf, sucking the essence through its green veins, only to die in a cocoon and be reborn in the splendour of a butterfly. Living only for one day, but such a marvellous day it was. Life and death, light and obscurity equally needed for the fragile cycle of existence of simple beauties such as Yazoo.

Tseng smiled at the thought, watching Yazoo's complexion through a bed of roses; his heart was melting like the spring snow. There was something magical in the air that night as Tseng greeted the early sun in the eyes of Yazoo who slowly dissipated like the morning mist. The Turk held the pale hands in his own, clutching them in a desperate attempt to fight the inevitable, but deep inside he knew the battle was won by the darkness before it even began. Yazoo was not meant to stay among the living. As the first rays cut through the body, Tseng leaned over the table, but the kiss was swallowed by the warm air as if it had never existed. There was no one there to receive it and when he opened his hands, there was nothing but emptiness in his palms.

The night had demonstrated its powers and unless the gates to the underworld could be opened, the creatures of the night would be shielded from the desires of the light; always with that mockery of the pain of loss it brought about. For the first time, Tseng was not welcoming the morning. For the first time in his life, he felt something warm beating gently in his chest, but it was a faint beat from the great beyond and not his own to keep. He had to find a way to reunite with a feeling that with each waking hour was becoming a consuming obsession. He had to be reunited with Yazoo.


	10. Knights of The Round Table

**The Knights of the Round Table**

 **T** he old season had been replaced by the waking life, but the dreams of the chosen warriors were still marked by the nightmares that kept lingering on in their everyday life. They were all there; gathered around the round poker table, which was serving as an assembly point for all the remaining members of the eco-terrorist group Avalanche and fighters associated with them. Although not all of them connected to the great beyond, they were still united by past events from the depth of a common well of experience.

Cid Highwind, a pilot whose dreams of being the first man in outer space were crushed when he cancelled a rocket launch to save the life of one of his assistants. That decision led to the ShinRa Commpany withdrawing the funds to the space program and since then there was a seething bitterness within the man. He was acting loud as usual, displaying his arrogant behavior in a typically childish way that was characteristic of his persona.

Barrett Wallace, the impatient leader of the second incarnation of the Avalanche who bore a deep grudge against the corporation for eradicating his hometown Corel and killing his family and friends, sat with his second adoptive daughter Hunci in his lap. His first adoptive child was Marlene, the daughter of his dear friend and brother in arms Dyne who was killed during the conflict. Marlene had found a new family in Barrett and the Avalanche members and lived with them throughout the last years of Sephiroth's life. Marlene had grown up to be a lovely young lady since the years after the destruction of the seraph and was preparing for university in a nearby town.

She had a profound gentleness in her personality and whilst working as a practitioner at an orphanage for a few summer months, she had come across Hunci; a ten-year old little girl who was too old to be adopted and nowhere to call home. Hunci and Marlene had gotten along well from the very first day and after a whole summer together, Marlene managed to convince Barrett to adopt the little girl. Being alone most of the day and missing Marlene's presence, Barrett had agreed to the adoption and was now a guardian anew. Hunci felt welcome and at peace in his presence. However, she hid a secret she dared not to expose to anyone.

Hunci listened to the group of grownups arguing when Nanaki's stare caught her attention. The little girl felt how he attempted to pierce her mind and buried her head in Barrett's embrace to demonstrate her disapproval of the forbidden access. The great lion-like feline Nanaki, referred to as Red XIII under the ShinRa era, was wise and humble, but his presence was intimidating and he removed his focus from the girl.

The other voice, which was heard now as it was always discerned in a group, was that of Yuffie Kisaragi. She was an experienced thief and a young, bitter resident of Wutai; a nation descended from ninja and defeated by the ShinRa Army in a war, which earned Sephiroth the name "Demon of Wutai". Yuffie's father, Godo Kisaragi, the former leader of Wutai, had a similar obsession with Materia as his daughter, which led to unfortunate events where she was forced to kill him.

Kazuhito was a man of similar age to Godo and had served under the former leader for many years. He had been part of Yuffie's life since she was a little girl. Kazuhito was a man of serious disposition, honoring his forefathers of samurai descent. He was characterized by a cybernetic right-eye that he wore as a patch integrated with his face. Kazuhito's face was etched with lines of a difficult life, but he was a man of honor and when Yuffie lost her father, he took it upon himself to guide her through the tribulations of life until she was old enough to stand on her own. He considered her to be his daughter, although he had been without a wife and family all his life.

However, following the destruction of Wutai and the subsequent rotting of the Avalanche guerrilla, Yuffie and Kazuhito had formed a strong bond to overcome the difficulites and humiliation of the new ways. As a condition of Wutai's surrender, the town was not allowed to possess any Materia and was reduced to a tourist settlement. Due to this, displeasure and bitterness were fermenting under the surface of the Wutai people, but Kazuhito always considered it was better to live today and fight tomorrow. There were more important virtues to die for than lost pride. Kazuhito rubbed his chin, listening to the others and made an occasional comment for his daughter to quiet down when her high-pitched voice was a bit too annoying for his close presence.

Cloud Strife, usually an unsociable mercenary and believed in the past to be a former first class member of ShinRa's Soldier unit, was keeping quiet. Although words were bubbling on the surface of his tongue, he found no opportunity to share his dreams and fears and thus only held back, allowing for the others to debate.

Tifa Lockhart, a martial artist and childhood friend of Cloud, watched him from across the table. Her newfound love, Rude, was not present but they had promised to meet up after the meeting. She would not share what had been said, for there was still an invisible line keeping rebels and Turks on separate sides of community. She was the very thing Rude was supposed to fight against, for the likes of her had attempted to ruin the ShinRa Company for decades, but feelings overcame many barriers and the spark between the two former enemies was undeniable; even to themselves.

And the last was Vincent Valentine, a former member of ShinRa's Turks unit who was almost killed, but then brought back to life as an immortal, as a Daemon lord, through experimental anatomic reconstruction. Vincent had invited an unexpected guest to this meeting, Miss Sïana Khin. She was received with a tinge of scepticism as she spoke warmly about Sephiroth and the memories associated with him. She exposed the horror as well as those deliciously private moments that made several people squirm in their seats with a strange mix of discomfort and excitement. She presented a completely different picture of the young General as compared to what most of them had experienced.

Other reconstructions going on were the events that had led to these nightmares. The conclusions were piled in a pyramid of proceedings and measures that had one common denominator, which was Sephiroth. Collaborating in bringing about forgotten memories and dormant thoughts, the picture of the past was painted before them in an extensive summary.

Eight years before the present day events, Sephiroth had learned that he was the product of gruesome experiments while on a ShinRa mission in Nibelheim, the hometown of Cloud and Tifa. This, the former couple could remember well.

"He was unaware of all details involved," Cloud spoke, "which was why Sephiroth concluded that he was a Cetra and was produced solely from Jenova's genetic material. At that time that's what I thought too… and even Zack. I mean, who knew?"

Cloud cast a glance at Vincent then at Miss Khin who revealed the truth behind the terrible past of the young silver-haired boy. She returned Cloud's gaze with a hint of anger, claiming that the words spewed by the Avalanche members were nothing but hypocritical, for they hardly lived as they preached.

"Look lady," Cid began, leaning over the table, "it's not about being a damn purist, but that man had slaughtered thousands with his bare hands…"

"That's right!" Yuffie hollered in agreement, but was quickly hushed by her foster father. Miss Khin, however, was firm and continued with a calm voice.

"And what had you all been doing before you turned your backs on the ShinRa corporation?"

Vincent watched their reactions from under his mantle; his burning eyes flashing as the crowd went quiet. Miss Khin had reduced the difficult crowd like a teacher exerts power over little children. He began to understand how she could control the harsh, young Sephiroth. Indeed, she had made him burn… could she make the Avalanche and those hungry for vendetta actually sympathize with the spawn?

"Almost all of you gained some benefits from the company in one way or the other. You never gave the planet a second thought until it backfired on you. Sephiroth only had one family, the ShinRa Corporation. He hardly knew anything about the world outside. Being fed with anguish through years of lies had left marks on him and just as any one of you would have done, he tried to find the answers to his heritage. But what he found enraged him…"

"Enraged him?!" Tifa raised her voice. "He burned down the town, intending to kill everyone…"

"Yes! All descendants of those he believed had abandoned his ancestors in the defence of the planet," Miss Khin bit back.

"Look, Cloud here," Tifa pointed at her former lover, defending him as if she still stood firmly by his side in heart and soul, as she fought on with blind conviction, "confronted Sephiroth during this massacre, after which Sephiroth vanished under unknown circumstances and was presumed dead until his reappearance in the ShinRa building."

"Nonsense!" Miss Khin hissed and dismissed Tifa's ideas with a swift wave of the hands. "He didn't disappear. He was taken captive… by HER, I'm sure! My dear, you have no idea of the powers these mad scientists were meddling with."

The arguments went on as Tifa and the rest of the group explained how Avalanche had formed from the events of injustice brought about by the ShinRa Corporation. Cloud joined Avalanche in a series of raids against the Mako reactors and during this time he met with Aeris, whom he had sworn to protect from the pursuit of the ShinRa organization.

"They chased Aeris," Cloud said, "for she was the last Cetra. They knew that… I am sure of it. She had great powers, but at times, I doubt even she knew just how much she possessed. I agreed to become her bodyguard."

"You see, President ShinRa believed that Aeris could lead him to a mythical land of fertility known as the Promised Land," Barrett joined in after remaining quiet a long time, "which could be easily harvested of Mako energy. So eventually, and despite Cloud's effort, she was taken captive. Cloud, Tifa, and I were the remaining members of Avalanche at that time, because ShinRa had destroyed most of us. We found out from the crime boss Don Corneo that the President had found the hideout of the group and we were the lucky ones to survive. We infiltrated ShinRa's headquarters to rescue Aeris, but in that moment of heat most of the personnel in the building, including President ShinRa, were killed."

"Yes. We found the body of the President pinned by a long sword," Cloud recalled. "I suspected that Sephiroth had returned from his presumed death. This was also confirmed to me by an executive spared during the massacre, who claimed to have witnessed Sephiroth murder the President."

"And why did he do that?" Miss Khin asked kindly.

"He didn't want to allow President ShinRa to claim the Promised Land," Vincent cut in. "He had been utterly bitter for the betrayal the President was responsible for."

"Yes," Miss Khin sighed, "Sephiroth never took disloyalty lightly."

She rubbed her face in her hands, trying to absorb the massive amount of information whilst fighting her emotional attachment to the boy who was claimed to be responsible for such despicable deeds. She also learned that it was behind that attack when Sephiroth had disappeared with the headless body of Jenova; it was then he became completely transformed.

"Rufus ShinRa, the President's son, assumed control of the ShinRa Company, whilst we pursued Sephiroth across the planet, fearing his intentions for the Promised Land would be more destructive than that of ShinRa's." Barrett went on. "During this pursuit, we were joined by Yuffie, Cait Sith, Vincent and Cid."

As the journey progressed, the members of the group came to terms with personal conflicts from their past, and the full scope of Sephiroth's plan was eventually revealed. Vincent, who had clear memories of every minute he had wasted on Lucrecia's son, took it upon himself to show the true face of Sephiroth to the gentle caretaker, who had persistently shielded their vicious thoughts from entering her blithe memories of the young General.

"If the planet would ever be extensively damaged, the Lifestream within would gather at the point of injury, to heal the wound. Sephiroth intended to use a powerful spell known as 'Meteor' to fatally injure the planet thereby causing a reaction in the Lifestream."

Miss Khin's eyes grew big as the notions of her beloved angel's sinister plans took form, but she could not deny the hurt and betrayal in Sephiroth's actions. She cast a tearful glance at Vincent as he continued, but pride still lingered on in her features.

"Sephiroth would enter the wound of the planet to merge with the energy, granting him God-like powers over life."

"Yes," Nanaki opened up from his reclusive observation. "At an ancient temple erected by the Cetra, we tried to undermine Sephiroth's plot by claiming the Black Materia he needed to complete the spell, but Sephiroth displayed a mysterious power over Cloud, forcing him to relinquish it."

Suddenly there was a thick silence ascending upon the Knights of the Round Table. No one spoke for a while, but their minds were tied in a whirlwind of memories too painful to bring about. The task had fallen upon Cloud, for he was the one carrying the heaviest burden.

"Fearing that Sephiroth may cast Meteor, Aeris wanted to stop him on her own," Cloud exhaled with a sad smile as he shook his head. "Concerned for her safety, we followed her to the Northern Continent, to the ancient Cetra city. She was…" He had to stop and clear his throat to regain strength in the fading whispers. "Aeris was praying to Gaea, when Sephiroth possessed my mind trying to force me to kill her."

Seeing how hard it was for Cloud to summon those memories of the past, Tifa placed a friendly hand on Cloud's to comfort and give support.

"I managed to resist him," Cloud whimpered, "but then he appeared and struck her down… in cold blood."

"No," Miss Khin shook her head, devastated by sadness and disbelief. "That's not my Sephiroth. He wasn't like this… he couldn't have."

"Oh, he could all right!" Cid growled and slammed his hand against the table in frustration.

He had no intention of scaring or seeming rude, but the past was painful even for him. And the story carried on; after laying Aeris' body to rest, the survivors resolved to defeat Sephiroth and avenge the Cetra. The group had reached the Northern Crater a bit too late as Sephiroth, by then trapped body and soul in crystallized Mako, had manipulated Cloud into believing that the spawn had not been in Nibelheim at the time of the massacre. He had showed the flaxen haired youth images of a first class Soldier with dark hair occupying Cloud's memories instead of the angel. Tifa had been unable to refute Sephiroth's claims, which consequently drove Cloud mad. Being convinced that he was doing the right thing, young Cadet Strife gave the Black Materia to Sephiroth and thereby reawakened the Weapons; those horrible creatures that Vincent made a living out of trying to defeat. During the earthquake that followed this event, Cloud was separated from his companions and fell into the Lifestream.

"Sephiroth used his powers to summon the meteor that almost flattened your ass, lady," Cid highlighted as gently as only he could. "And it was your precious little toddler that had done so. He didn't seem to care much about you then."

"For sure," Barrett nodded calmly, "the meteor slowly approached the planet, whilst the ShinRa Company focused its efforts on protecting humanity from the Weapons – at least for show. We were interrogated, and eventually nearly executed. We escaped from Junon, and obtained Cid's airship."

Cid nodded complying with that last statement. He was proud of his airship as if it had been his child. Since then it had been replaced by a new one he referred to as the Zephyr.

"We then searched for Cloud," Barrett continued, holding the sleepy Hunci in his embrace, "and discovered ShinRa's plan to take Huge Materia from the major sources of Gaea. I barely managed to save this little girl's hometown from ShinRa's escort."

Though nobody spoke of it, every member of the group knew that Barrett had done so out of guilt and was hoping that one day to be forgiven and redeem himself for the building the Mako reactor there in the first place. He continued telling his story.

"When we eventually did find Cloud, at a tropical resort island called Mideel, he was in a catatonic state."

"By the Gods, yes," Tifa sighed heavily, "I was unable to see him like that and so decided not to leave Mideel until Cloud had fully recovered, but the Weapons' destructive activity caused the island to split open, and we both ended up in the Lifestream below. There, through merging my childhood with his, I was able to reconstruct Cloud's memories and at the same time learned the truth about his past."

Although he was a real human being and had actually been in Nibelheim during Sephiroth's attack, he never actually succeeded in joining Soldier and only managed to attain the rank of Private in ShinRa's military because things went sour before his official Soldier ranking.

"So the dark haired Soldier I saw in my head, when Sephiroth tampered with my mind, was Zack, Sephiroth's best friend and Aeris' boyfriend. The picture became all so clear after that," Cloud added and described how during Sephiroth's destruction of Nibelheim, Zack, Tifa and himself had fought the dark angel in Nibelheim's Mako reactor.

Although Tifa and Zack were defeated, Cloud and Sephiroth severely wounded one another. Sephiroth had decapitated Jenova, which had been stored in the Mako reactor, and Sephiroth was thrown into the Lifestream by Cloud, taking the creature's head with him.

"I don't know what happened after," Cloud said, but Nanaki stepped in with an explanation that left them numb.

"Instead of dying, however, Sephiroth's body and consciousness were crystallized in Mako inside Jenova's crater. This indestructible force of Jenova is the reason why we all are here once again. Some of us who are here have one thing in common," the feline pointed out as he paced around the table watching each participant with careful scrutiny.

He knew no one would dare bring about the subject and so he decided to wait a few more moments until the truth could be revealed. He continued.

"But first thing's first. Whilst Tifa was taken to safety in Midgar, Cloud and Zack were among the wounded survivors who were apprehended by ShinRa as part an elaborate cover-up of Sephiroth's massacre. Professor Hojo subjected these survivors, as with me and Vincent, to an experiment, in which he performed the same enhancements given to members of Soldier," Nanaki sat down behind Cloud as he spoke. "However, because Hojo conducted the experiment without any concern for the subjects' mental capacities to handle the procedure, all but Zack entered a comatose state. Nearly five years later, Zack broke free from his confinement and took Cloud here, with him."

It was once again time for Miss Khin to step in with her expertise in how the experiments were conducted. She didn't know the details to any larger extent, the time that had passed by since, had erased many traces. But she still managed to add information that the group found useful.

"The procedure used to enhance members of Soldier involved inoculations of both Mako and cells from Jenova. From what you told me, and how Sephiroth was manipulated by Jenova, I can only guess that the alien cells inhabiting Cloud's body allowed his mind to construct a false persona, built around Zack's behavior, fighting style, and description of Sephiroth's destruction in Nibelheim, but they also allowed Sephiroth to manipulate Cloud to some extent. I am not really clear about something though," Miss Khin drifted off in thought. "In order for Cloud to assimilate the Jenova cells to that extent, he must have had a precursor inside him."

Vincent, who had remained invisible in the background for a while, suddenly cocked his head as if someone had stabbed a needle into his side, eyes instantly searching their pair in Nanaki. They anchored on to each other very bluntly, yet no one else noticed the unexpected change in their mood. The Daemon sensed something, but the sentient feline remained resolute and hid his emotions. Nanaki had deliberately shut Vincent out. Not a soul must elaborate further on this thought. It was a forbidden thought that would wreak havoc in all of them, let alone inside Cloud. They waited to see if anyone would pick up that trail of thought, but released the tension with a sigh as Miss Khin went on.

"But you should not forget that although you claim Sephiroth had gone mad and aimed to destroy the world, he had a chosen a few he held close and those people he respected. Zack was one of them and if he had wanted to completely obliterate the man, he could've. There must have been a reason why he allowed for Zack's presence to linger on in Cloud."

"Yeah," Cloud grunted, "to manipulate me."

"Or maybe to have a remnant of his confidant still linger on inside something living, rather than death," Miss Khin added in. "I agree that Sephiroth's actions were like a double edged sword, but whilst you only see death in his wake, I see that boy I held at nights. There was another side to him."

Miss Khin noticed that Cloud gave off a slight, hardly noticeable shudder at the thought, but went on as befitted a true scientist. There was no time to take regards to emotions. What had to be said had to be said.

"The cells' inherent ability to duplicate information probably led Cloud to believe that he had been the First Class Soldier in Nibelheim. Well, what happened to Zack then? Couldn't he set things straight?"

"Zack was shot and killed outside Midgar by pursuing ShinRa soldiers," Vincent informed. "Closely after that, Tifa discovered Cloud wearing Zack's spare uniform, and offered him a job with Avalanche."

And so the circle was completed. Cloud took a deep breath as he added left out segments to the already confusing story.

"Moments before she died, Aeris was casting a spell known as 'Holy', the only means of opposing Meteor. Though she succeeded, Sephiroth's powerful will, the one you so warmly spoke of Miss Khin, prevented the spell from taking effect and had been restraining it. The ShinRa Corporation decided that humanity had to be protected from the Weapons before Sephiroth could be approached, we joined forces and destroyed everything, even Rufus helped."

"Then you must have known that Professor Hojo was Sephiroth's biological father," Miss Khin threw in. "He and his so called assistant worked for Professor Gast, and offered up their unborn child as a test subject to research involving Jenova. What was the name of that little strumpet…? Oh yes, Lucrecia Crescent. But remember that Hojo had a wife, despite the sexual relationship with Lucrecia."

Vincent squirmed on his seat at the last sentence and after not being able to find a comfortable position, he stood up.

Miss Khin let off a weak laughter. "I've known Hojo from when he was a doctor in biomedical science with focus on biochemistry. He was quite a looker back then and the female students were so weak for that man. There was something about him… that conviction and that dominance he exerted, that black hair always tied in the back of his neck, the way he walked… so assertive and secure. He had confidence and Sephiroth did inherit some of his features. Whatever you think, Hojo was phenomenal… until he was driven insane by his megalomania and I guess that is also something Sephiroth inherited. What I'm trying to say, I suppose, is that don't be surprised by him managing to seduce and convince a young lady, who was already damaged and vulnerable at that time due to Grimoire's death, to participate in a little experiment to create the world's invincible super-soldier. And so she did. But what happened to him? He never cared about Sephiroth to any large extent, although I know at times he was struck by a sense of guilt. It was probably why he allowed me to stay with the boy for so long. What he couldn't give him, I would."

"When Hojo attempted to help Sephiroth gain mastery over the Lifestream we had no choice but to fight and kill him," the Daemon Lord added.

"My grandfather died in that battle," Nanaki brought forth, but without any regrets or sadness. In fact, he spoke of the past with pride. "He asked me to go with Cloud to the final battle and so we travelled through the mantle of the Gaea to its core, where we defeated Sephiroth and set Holy free. But due to Meteor's already close proximity to the planet's surface, Holy was unable to destroy it alone and Midgar was almost completely destroyed. Luckily, through Aeris' spirit, the Lifestream itself rose from the planet to aid Holy by holding back the Meteor, allowing Holy to destroy it."

At least that is what they had thought, for the battle returned only two years later. Gaea was recovering from the devastating attack and the survivors of Midgar had begun to build a new city, fittingly named 'Edge', on the outskirts of the old metropolis. Cloud had retired from the warrior's life and started his small delivery business taking care of both Marlene, whilst Barrett was gone, and an orphan boy named Denzel. However, a strange disease, the Geostigma, had risen to plague the lands.

One day, on his way home to Tifa, Cloud was attacked by three mysterious men who believed that he knew the location of their missing "Mother". It was the first time the group had run into the remnants of Sephiroth incarnated in the shape of Kadaj, Yazoo and Loz. Mentioning these names left an obvious discomfort on the faces of Cloud and Hunci, but no one noticed. The discussions continued as every member around the table filled in missing pieces of the puzzle with small contributions.

Hoping to gain information on the mysterious attackers, Cloud had sought out Rufus ShinRa, the leader of the obsolete ShinRa Company; a legacy from his father the President, but their conversations came to a dead end. It was later revealed by Kadaj that 'Mother' was the remains of Jenova, and was connected to the cause of the Geostigma. Kadaj also announced that he and his brothers, Yazoo and Loz, were planning a new 'reunion' that would culminate in an assault on the Planet itself.

"Loz and I had a terrible battle at Aeris Gainsborough's church when he was trying to find their 'Mother'," Tifa explained. "He almost killed me, but Marlene distracted him by throwing Materia at Loz. He may have behaved like a child inside, but he was vicious."

"But he is not like that now," Hunci suddenly stepped in with her lean, childish voice, provoking a 'hush' from Barrett as she told them about her new imaginary friend who visited her at nights. Agile looks of gravity were oscillating between Vincent and Nanaki, but the muzzle was still kept on for the puzzle to be completed. Cloud picked up the story where it had been left off and carried it further.

"Kadaj…" he halted for a swift second, emitting a fleeting smile, then resumed his serious façade. "Kadaj and his brothers began collecting children infected with Geostigma, including Denzel, and took them to the Forgotten City past the Silver Forest…"

"Remember that name, Cloud, it will be of importance to you," came a faint familiar, tender voice from the great beyond which made Cloud silence in an instant.

He was listening intently, but there was nothing other than the humming of people's anguish and when no one else seemed to have reacted, he presumed it was the ghost in his head again and thus carried on weaving memories together.

He explained how he had attempted to rescue the children but failed and had to be rescued himself by Vincent Valentine. Vincent knew what the trinity brothers were seeking and that it could result in the return of Sephiroth. Knowing the planets force through his pulsating veins, Vincent also knew that Geostigma was the result of one's body working excessively to fight off an infection brought on by Jenova's lingering presence within the Lifestream, and Cloud had no choice but to return to Edge and face Kadaj in direct battle.

"I had to kill him," Cloud buried his face in his hands. "I killed him."

Tifa frowned a little not being able to comprehend the difficulties in accepting a fact so perfectly completed. The young flaxen haired man lowered his head over the table, sinking deeply into his chair as sadness overtook him. He was trying hard not to show it, but the emotions seeped through his cracking façade. Nanaki watched the transformation and saw the moment was approaching rapidly. There was yet another affected by the great beyond; it was now evident that even Cloud carried the burdens of the nightmares. He was intrigued, for up until now, he thought it had only been Vincent and he aware of the restless souls trapped in the core of Jenova and crystallized away from the Lifestream. Discreetly and with a soft whisper, Nanaki called upon Vincent's attention as Cloud told of the moments before Kadaj's death.

"I caught up with Kadaj at the ruins of the ShinRa Headquarters in the center of Midgar. We fought, but Kadaj chose to merge with the remains of that alien and when I was about to deliver the final blow to K… Ka-daj…" he halted and cleared his throat to obtain the drops of strength in his voice. "When I… almost killed Kadaj… I was stopped and parried in midair as Kadaj transformed into Sephiroth. We fought long… and hard and with a bit of luck and some help from those already in the Beyond, I managed to defeat Sephiroth… I killed Kadaj…"

"I don't think I want to hear any more," Miss Khin cut in and rose from the table.

Cid made a rush of effort to be contemptuous but he lost the track mid-flight. Indeed, there was no reason to be harsh and to ridicule. He understood that the elegant lady had seen a side of Sephiroth none other had.

The tension in the air was thick enough to cut and though the story of their experiences was completed, they still didn't know the reason for this gathering.

"You don't understand," Miss Khin continued as she lit a cigarette, nervously sucking in the poisonous stick with a deep breath.

She hardly ever smoked, only when her emotions galloped beyond control as they did now. The grey mist of smoke left her lungs as she exhaled, whilst staring emptily towards the ceiling.

"He was not like that. Sephiroth was brought up to be a warrior, but he was not evil."

"Well, lady, he sure as hell had a funny way of showing his affections, when eradicating land after land and trying to take over the universe," Cid muttered cynically from the background, but Sïana snorted at his crudeness emitting a smirk.

"Winners write history, Mr Highwind. When you win the war, do you ever question if that was the right event in life… or perhaps would it had been better for the opposite side to win. As I see it, right and wrong depends on who does the killing and who gets killed. Sephiroth often told me that himself. He wasn't particularly happy about his victories even if he was very successful. But he was paid and created to do a good job and so he did. He also held professor Gast in high regards and as I recall Seph was convinced by his wife Ifalna to leave ShinRa and find a reason for fighting. He DID listen and he DID feel and he DID reason."

Cloud couldn't hold his mouth any longer and spat; "How come you're all on his side?"

"I'm not," Miss Khin bit back in an instant. "That is one valuable lesson Sephiroth taught me, already at an early age. He used to say 'I never choose sides. There is only one side I take – MINE.'"

The smoke from her breath formed a halo around her face as she spoke.

"Sephiroth wouldn't have done anything to hurt those he loved."

"Sephiroth couldn't love! Why are you so obsessed with his emotional state and that lovey-dovey cutsie attitude he flaunted you with? It was an exception, lady, accept it! What the hell does his abilities to love matter anyway," Cloud slammed his fist against the table. He tried to shake off the frustration within.

"Because, Mr Stife, emotion and passion is what drives us all. It doesn't matter if it is passionate hatred or passionate love. Once the chemicals set off in your brain you are a slave under their influence. Most wars have been fought for stupid reasons, Mr Strife, whether it was love, hate or rule! How many wars have not been fought over those three stupid four-letter words? Don't play ignorant with me. What Sephiroth's reasons were, I don't know. And I don't care. What I care about is that he wasn't dead within as you claim. He did have all the capabilities you could think of in order to feel compassion. Call it what you will."

"The hell he could," Cloud grunted, but Miss Khin didn't even dignify the flaxen haired youth with a glance as she huffed in return; "Yes, and as if you can. How's your relationship, young man?"

Cloud swallowed the insolence boiling in his throat and calmly stated that Sephiroth had killed enough for a lifetime. Miss Khin put the cigarette out in the ashtray as she once again seated herself in front of Cloud; this time a bit more calm in her senses. With her olive gaze piercing him, she pinned him to the wall with her questions.

"So tell me, Mr Strife, how did it feel to finally kill him then?"

After a long moment of numbing silence, Cloud spoke with softness and without restraint.

"It was horrible. Kadaj died in my arms and though I've never spoken to anyone about it before… I wish to have had it undone."

"What? What the hell do you mean, Cloud," Cid smirked in disbelief, aiming an arrow of doubt against mercenary Strife who couldn't even face the muttering crowd surrounding him with a dignified look.

"It's true, Cid," the young man sighed, his head bowed in decorum. "I've been haunted by those images for so long now, I can't even remember a good night's sleep. He is dead and still he destroys," the blond looked at Tifa and nothing further had to be said for they all knew about the shattered relationship.

"No!" Miss Khin protested determinedly. "Sephiroth was not like that… he was just a young child when they tortured him."

"To hell with it, lady!" Barrett growled viciously, making Hunci jolt in his lap. "Sephiroth is the reason for all the evil that has fallen upon us."

"You are not listening," Miss Khin stood firm in the face of the opposition. "Sephiroth was emotionally exceptional even when he was taught to deny those feelings…"

"Yeah, he was exceptional all right," someone huffed, "he liked killing a bit too much."

"No! I am telling you people," Sïana slammed her hands against the table, "Sephiroth was passionate. He harbored a lot of fear inside, yes, but he had so much more to give. When his curiosity for intimacy awakened, he loved like there was no tomorrow. He was burning up with desire. How many of you had ever taken the chance to touch his skin at night? He was longing for it like a starved animal."

"If he was so fucking superior, why couldn't he control the urges?" Cloud asked arrogantly, but felt the sting of his own words bounce back as he became well aware of the downward spiral that pulled him into a vortex of insanity with Kadaj as his focal point. But by shifting the blame, perhaps he could find some release.

"Because maybe his and Jenova's idea of what control is does not pertain to the feeble code of celibacy imposed upon humans through religious morale for the control of the masses," Sïana snapped with clenched teeth. "When will you understand that Nature is much grander than what we are? Jenova, the Cetra, all the ancients respond under a different code… not what we deem fair or unfair. Nature is not fair… it is rational and direct and brutal at times. The only reason he gave up on the intimacy was because he had no possibility to form lasting relations… at war people come and go… they die. Death was a part of his life and developing ties to people was too much of a sacrifice on his behalf as well as devastating to lives. Besides, he developed distaste against the flesh after so much killing. Sometimes he would return with the stench of decay surrounding him and it took me hours to get it off his skin. After Wutai, his boots were so soaked with blood that when he took his socks off his toenails were outlined in streaks of brown. Can you blame him for wanting to distance himself? But read history, Cloud… all of you… have the great warlords ever resorted to celibacy? No! None. And did they suffer from it? No! Neither did he and it wasn't so much by choice at first. But he was pushed to hate. You who think it was his lack of control that made him slip at times are deluding yourselves. It was not lack of control, but rather his attempt to give into it. It was the other way around. So apparently, your ideals and ideas are not a prerequisite for success. I don't understand your obsession with the hips as if the world is governed by them. Sharks, my dear friends, are so well adapted to their environment that they had no reason to change over hundreds of millions of years. Does first grade biology ring a bell? The fact that they don't have opposable thumbs doesn't mean they are not superior to the environment they live in. They cannot get cancer or neurodegenerative diseases, they do not suffer from an overpowered immune system like we do, and no one really knows how old some of those great carnivores get in nature as they never die of old age but in fights or captivity. They have not achieved their phenomenal supremacy through celibacy, for crying out loud! They can get well over a hundred years for all we know. And apart from that, let me tell you something about Sephiroth… he could drink! He loved a good brandy after dinner, port was his favourite, and a hand-rolled cigar and his guilty pleasure of cream cakes. He loved music, refined art as well as modern rubbish. Sometimes he would listen to music that would drive most people into nervous wrecks except a teenager high on dope. Everything from classical to the alternative heavy beats… he consumed it all. There was nothing he couldn't have partaken in."

She scanned the group decisively, not bothering to respond to the mockeries of the contemptuous underline in her suggestion that they should have reached out to Sephiroth.

"No one could come close to him," Tifa argued, little wrinkles appearing on the bridge of her nose. "The closest I ever got was when me, Zack and Sephiroth posed for a picture taken by my father years ago. At that time, Sephiroth was still sane. Once his mind went…"

"… He became completely impossible," Yuffie threw in, but then couldn't help revealing the slight hesitation in past actions as he posed a careful tailing question; "You mean there are ways to turn around evil?"

Lady Sïana was not an easy target. She straightened her back and stood up; posing a daring question that planted an uncomfortable thorn in the side of each individual.

"So none of you ever laid hands on him for a gentle hug?"

"He was aphephobic!" Cloud argued with voice raised. "If you tried to lay a hand on him, the chances were you wouldn't have anything left to remove."

"Rubbish," Miss Khin snapped and slid up behind Vincent who was seated closest to her, but her words spread to all those watching her with frustration and anger, "I had my hands all over him… all over every inch of him," she emphasized whilst her hands moved across the surface of Vincent's chest as if she was still caressing the pale body of the young General, "every dirty inch and as far as I'm concerned I still have both my hands. It just takes a bit of courage and not cowering away from his initial aversion, which was more superficial than actual fact." She slowly began moving around the table, passing each person with a new question, searching for answers in hidden eyes and guilty expressions.

"No kiss," Miss Khin leaned over to Tifa with a stale face then went on to Barrett, "no friendly pat on the back," she continued towards Cid, "no late night flicks with a beer and pizza," she slid up behind Yuffie, "no flirtatious looks," she faced Nanaki and tilted her head asking, "no philosophical discussions under the stars," she walked up to Cloud placing her hands on his shoulders, "no secret admiration to reveal," and finally, she stood face to face with Vincent anew asking the final question, "no secrets to be told?"

When no one spoke and silence was the only thing to be heard, she stated calmly, scanning the dejected crowd with a sad look.

"How many of you would like to live without those simple things in life?" No answers. Miss Khin nodded and huffed with an arrogant smile. "Well, he had to… because you shut him out."

"He was the fucking General," Cloud felt he needed to defend their actions, and going against his own beliefs Vincent agreed. It was a foolish choice.

"It's not someone you just invite for a cup of coffee," Vincent stated, partly referring to Miss Khin's kindness a long while back when she blessed him with answers to the questions that had bewildered him for a long time.

The beautiful woman walked up to Vincent, facing him with sad eyes and unexpectedly delivered a slap to his face whilst hissing for all to hear.

"But it didn't stop you from inviting him into your dreams, now did it, Mr Valentine? You slept through his entire life, Vincent. I don't see how you can voice an opinion. Would YOU have acted differently and caught his fall if you had been awake… or abandon him like his mother did with you? Sephiroth was born year seventy seven as a beautiful, healthy baby boy without a shred of malice in him, and he died in the tenth month zero two, only twenty five years old… abandoned, confused, insane with hatred and according to you, without ever getting to know who he really was before you finished him off. He's been dead for ten years now... or at least eight if those triplet-spawns you spoke about were truly a manifestation of him. In either case, why can't you just let him rest in peace? Didn't you all get what you wanted?"

The Daemon lord had nothing to say in his defence. Miss Khin turned to face the crowd. All were focused on her outrageous actions against Vincent, but no one dared or even made a comment for they couldn't understand. With that, the elegant lady left the bar, leaving behind staring eyes, faces distorted in confusion and questions boiling in gaping mouths waiting to be unleashed. Tifa was the one to break the silence as she stood up demanding her right to know the truth, but everyone was tired. The gathering of a handful of warriors and friends left the bar one by one until only Vincent and Nanaki remained behind in the lingering mist of cigarette smoke and bitterness.

"Did we do the right thing?" Vincent asked, referring to giving in to the discomfort and allowing for yet another day to pass by without finding the answers.

Nanaki shook his head. "No, Vincent. We failed yet again… and your Sephiroth is to bleed one more night."

Chaos rumbled from the depth of his core, cursing the weak master of flesh to whom he was bound. His angel was lost and there was nothing he could do to set him free and Vincent was the main obstacle. Vincent was weak, Vincent was afraid… Vincent brought shame.

The orb in his chest pulsed to keep the Daemon at bay, but the emotions flowing through his being were very powerful and the collision of impossible forces brought the glowing, yellow eyes to surface.

Nanaki produced a comforting purr from the depth of his being signalling he was of no threat to Chaos, but the Daemon was bitter with disappointment as he muttered through clenched fangs.

"I hate him… I hate that weak pile of flesh… he is my cage."

"I know my friend, but part of your entrapment is the price you pay for killing his father."

"It was unintentional, Nanaki," Chaos growled with his beast fangs exposed.

"A lot of mistakes are made unintentionally, Chaos, but that is not to say we don't have to pay the price for them."

"What about Vincent's sin, Nanaki? His sin is greater than any of ours. Why isn't he punished?"

Nanaki blew out a hot breath of air. "You don't think he suffers?"

"Not enough to please me," the Daemon hissed between sharp fangs. "He knew about the experiment Lucrecia and Hojo were going to pursue. He saw her collapse on the floor knowing her child would destroy the world. But the future was NOT SET," Chaos roared. "The future was not set! They could have changed it. It was one possible outcome and they played into the hands of Jenova and you KNOW this, Nanaki." The feline could not respond anything other but to nod agreeing as Chaos went on. "They could have changed the course of events. But instead they gave into their fear. Lucrecia could have chosen to stay with the child and guide him instead of hiding like a coward. And so did Vincent! Miss Khin was the only one not cowering from fear."

"It's not a fair comparison," Nanaki intervened. "Miss Khin didn't know anything about the possible future. She didn't fear out of lack of knowledge and Vincent… well, he was buried… woke up only two years after the destruction of Sephiroth."

"Makes no difference," Chaos was relentless. "Vincent had the chance to stop the events from taking place. Instead, he built me a prison of anguish and self pity and daydreams of forbidden desires that he denies himself yet he is lost in them when his will crumbles. I only need one chance to break free…"

"But you won't," Nanaki brushed past Chaos, "because he makes you feel… you have never had such a rush of elation as when you roam the world of the living. You've got it all, my friend, the powers of the underworld, as well as the physical indulgence of the living. You must tame your hatred, Chaos… you must hold it in check… or you will lose Sephiroth forever."

"There is nothing you can say to ease this hatred, Nanaki. Vincent is undeserving of someone like Sephiroth."

"Perhaps," the feline shrugged, "but as you know, and what Miss Khin does not, is that it's not us not wanting Sephiroth to rest in peace. It is HE who taints the peace out of us. He is not letting us rest… and if you cannot reconcile with Vincent, we might never find the answers to why this happens."


	11. Birds and Wolverines

**BIRDS AND WOLVERINES**

 **S** urvival of the fittest; it was what the law dictated. It mattered not if it was a question of the fittest mind or body; it was simply matter of what was the most beneficial at that given moment in time. Silvery, eerie eyes took another into focus; wild hearts were pounding like ceremonial drums as immense powers collided in a breathtaking manifestation of superiority. Claws refined to tear, bodies enhanced to endure and minds tuned to destroy were battling for survival, one draining the other in essence as the weaker part spasmodically emptied its soul into the void; wound gaping in its throat, and limbs ripped from the genius creation of nature. Yet the face was devoid of expressions of pain, sorrow or even dread. It was like the stale, eroded features of lifeless statues. Empty, non-existent and hollowed out.

With an icy shriek that brought the blood to solidify in the veins, the neo-spawn claimed its victory over yet another clone, announcing his genetic superiority over the others. Hojo and Rufus ShinRa watched from behind the ectobar glass as the massive artificial battlefield underground, saturated with alien blood, brought forth the most superior specimens and successful survivors; those that deserved to be cloned into a vast army of power.

Rufus ShinRa was most pleased with the success of the breeding program. The neo-spawns from the Jenova cells were of a much more ruthless character than Sephiroth. The young General had inherited the quizzical nature of human kind, to question and to consider, but these were more simple minded. With minor limitations of the mind, Professor Hojo had managed to reduce their basic functions to be good followers and ideal Soldiers. The new program was a success and the sinister mind of the new President of the ShinRa Corporation could almost taste the sweetness of the power that lay before his feet. In a few swift years, he would realize the dream his father had failed to build. Indeed, in a few swift years, the ShinRa Corporation would be the biggest name echoing in the known parts of the galaxy. Stockholders had already invested billions of Gil into the company and more money than ever was now pouring into the foundations of the new world.

Tseng and the rest of the Turks were patiently waiting for Rufus ShinRa as he exited the research facility. Within the past year, it had been restored and new alterations were constantly taking place as finances had stabilized substantially. Since the salaries had increased as well, several of the team members had not even bothered to question this sudden upswing in success that President ShinRa claimed to come from the new genetics department, but Tseng was feeling increasingly uncomfortable for he had not yet seen any results of this success in any announcement of commercial medical breakthroughs. He knew nothing of science, but he did have a slight inkling of the fact that once a success was achieved, in order to receive grants, the scientists had to publish the results in peer reviewed papers and journals, proving their advances.

Once, he had asked President ShinRa about these achievements, but received nothing other than a mysterious smile and a 'soon my friend you will see that what was once thought to be a dream will be reality'.

That statement had sent a stinging chill down Tseng's spine. He had countless dreams he would never want to see a part of reality. If only Rufus had known about Tseng's dreams. No, no one must know. It was and would remain his secret; his debauched little indulgence of desire and suffering.

Tseng removed his sunglasses and lifted his head towards the sky. With eyes closed and a small frown he faced the sun, eyelids letting through the light and dressing his world into an orange canvas of heat. The Turk leader leaned against the black limousine and sighed. Almost a year now, he thought. It's been almost a whole year since his nightmares had started and almost ten since Sephiroth was defeated by Cloud. He knew not why, but each time Tseng attempted to rejoice that danger was no longer settled upon them, he was hit by tremendous sadness and thoughts of Yazoo appeared in his mind.

He used to get Goosebumps and be appalled each time he submerged in memories of Yazoo, but those emotions had changed. Slowly and like unnoticed inertia, overpowering tenderness towards the pale Geisha had been born and Tseng no longer had the wants or the power to fight those impossible feelings. Instead, he locked himself ever so deeply inside his crippled mind and remained disowned to the world throughout entire nights, whilst holding Yazoo close and indulging in the body writhing with pleasure underneath his own.

Last night had been another night of fulfilment as Tseng caressed Yazoo's shivering body and swallowed his desire ravenously; knowing that by the morning there would be no evidence of their union other than the taste of his lover lingering on in his mouth. He had to savor it, for years of loneliness had left him longing for affections he now received only from that beautiful and gracefully refined spawn he once feared and hated. Yazoo had become insatiable to Tseng; the silver Geisha was his source of life.

A gentle smile graced his lips as he submerged himself in the thought of how ironic life could be. It required a condemned soul from the world of the dead to bring life and warmth into a spirit trapped in a frozen body of the living.

When asked by Reno why he was so distant, Tseng simply answered; "I am craving ice cream."

The group had noticed that Tseng had changed dramatically over the past year. From first being rather edgy and in a bad mood with constantly interrupted dreams, he was now calm and sometimes distant. The group had often spoken about it when their leader was not present but agreed that as long as Tseng seemed happier, the reasons did not matter.

President Rufus ShinRa appeared at the entrance. He looked radiant in his expensive cream colored suit upon which he wore a black silk coat. The thin coat was swishing to his movements where it opened on the front and dancing to the faint summer breeze. He seemed very content with life and with a mysterious smile on his face he ordered the bodyguards to escort him to his mansion. He would take the rest of the day off. Well, it was almost time to wrap up for the day but those two hours were what he would reward himself with for the good news he obtained.

Tseng put on his glasses and seated himself in the car. No one said anything. They were Turks; bodyguards hired to protect without question. And so neither he nor any of his team members would question the orders.

The ShinRa mansion, actually a château, was marvellous in its classic architecture as it rose on the hilltop to which a grand juniper-alley guided the three cars that escorted the president. Blossoming trees of jasmine spread a wonderful fragrance that spoiled the senses with the splendor of the flowers, whilst trimmed hedges and greenery welcomed any visitor with imaginative shapes and enticing labyrinths.

Clearing the area and making sure it was completely safe for the president to get out of the car, the group of Turks escorted Rufus to his home and then bid the reticent man goodnight before leaving the mansion. It was not their business to question their employer or his business, however, Tseng was a little troubled about not being able to understand the 'new aims', as the President had once said, of the Corporation. Though never troubled about secrecy, there was a tiny seed of increasing disquiet growing in his chest. With questions whirling in his mind, Tseng anchored his gaze onto the back of Rufus as the flaxen leader almost acted if he wished to pull him back to be confronted. But Rufus did not take notice. Instead he disappeared through an extravagant entrance of white marble, swallowed by the orange, soothing light from flickering candles in grand chandeliers in the hall. There was nothing more to do that night.

"Well, Reno and I are heading for the movies… you guys care to join?" Elena asked cheerfully. She and Reno were the most vivid pair of the four Turks. They were also a couple; or rather a couple who met occasionally to have an adventurous evening. They seemed carefree when together, both very playful in their ways and a perfect pair. Neither of them were serious enough to have a solid relationship, for they both knew the dangers of attaching too much whilst working in a constantly changing and at times, dangerous environment. In addition, having fun and being occasional lovers set them free from such inhibiting factors as jealousy and anguish; factors that restrained them and kept them from living fully when each second was important. People of the dull everyday life could afford such luxuries as marriage and unity when they knew they would meet the very same person from one day to another once the doors to a common home was opened. But a Turk, as any warrior, was glad for each day he or she was alive. It was life in the fast lane and often with tragic ending.

"I don't think so," Tseng mumbled quietly, "but thanks for asking."

"I will go home to Tifa. She and I are planning for a dinner with some friends," Rude said.

He had been with Tifa for a long time now, and they were very content with life. Breaking his previous aversion to settle down and move in with someone, Tifa was spending increasing amounts of time at Rude's apartment and it wasn't uncommon to stumble over things in his home that reminded of her. Little details of a woman's touch were integrating into his everyday life and they spent a lot of time planning for the future. In fact, at a weak moment when alcohol clouded minds, Rude revealed to Tseng that he was planning on giving up his job as a bodyguard and take on something less dangerous for the sake of the future with Tifa. Tseng had agreed to the plans as wise and encouraged the friendly giant to go with the inner feelings he harbored. Who knew, one day there might even be a little Rude Junior to think about and if that was the case, a child had to have a good father who was present. It was but cruelty to have a child remembering a gravestone as a memory of an unknown father. Tseng was all too familiar with that. He had never known his father; he had died long before the conflicts had started.

The group had parted for the day and each member went along their own plans. As Rude stepped out of the car in front of his flat he asked Tseng what his plans were.

"Just to get some ice cream," the leader said and smiled.

Rude returned the smile and with benevolence asked his friend to join them for dinner, but the invitation was kindly declined.

"Thanks, Rude but I'd rather be alone tonight…"

"Just like every other night, Tseng," Rude pointed out. "Listen man, I can see that there's something pulling you away. I don't like talking about emotions and stuff, but I'm not blind."

"I know you're not, Rude," Tseng nodded smilingly and gave the car slightly more power, just to indicate his will to leave. "Give my regards to Tifa."

Rude sighed and shook his head.

"Look, Tseng…"

"I'm fine, Rude. I really am."

The tall brute grunted, showing his pearly white teeth in a big grin as he threw in whilst holding up his palm for a high five.

"Man, you've never been fine as long as I've known you. You're the only one that makes me feel normal."

Palms meeting in a loud slap and joined by a swift laughter between friends sent Tseng on his way home and Rude to his new found love, Tifa. The essence of the young woman filled his head and with each breath Rude took he imbibed the sweet memories that lifted his dull existence to new heights. And from those heights the memories of the past were raining down on the fertile soil of a tired mind… like doves crashing to the ground.

And they were falling; falling into the soil, falling from the skies and burying the flowers in pools of red. They were rotting under the lilies again… fallen from the skies and crushed against the ground. It was weekend and Cloud had the day off. He had returned from a trip into town, which at first seemed like a good idea, but turned out to be a real spoiler as he spotted Tifa walking hand in hand with Rude. He wasn't quite sure why it affected him, for he had been the one pushing Tifa away for various reasons. He snorted at his own thoughts whilst picking the bird cadavers out of the bed of lilies under his kitchen window.

"Various reasons," Cloud repeated mumbling, cursing his own stupidity of letting a fine girl like Tifa go whilst giving in to debauches dreams about another boy.

It was wrong, it was sick and it was ever so delicious. But the truth was, Cloud was in need of something, albeit not a relationship. Ever since the final battle with Sephiroth and watching Kadaj slip away, Cloud had been marked by a thorn of guilt that constantly stabbed his soul and tainted his mind. He was scarred by the memories of his deeds and although it had been a necessary killing, the feelings he harbored for the great General as a leader and Soldier, would not let him reconcile with the victory he was celebrated for. Cloud felt more shame and guilt than ease and safety.

His blond hair was sticking to his damp forehead and Cloud wiped his face with the sleeves of his shirt. The flowerbed was just about done, but he knew that by the morning he would have yet another waste-bag to fill with those tiny cadavers. A slight, whimpering 'meow', brought a smile to his face.

"What do you want?" Cloud asked as he patted the dirt and arranged the decorative rocks that created a border around the flowerbed.

Greybone disturbed him in his work as he repeatedly trampled into the soft soil and brushed himself against the master's hands. Cloud made a few half-hearted attempts to chase the cat away, but quite soon gave into the endearing demonstration of affections and halted for a few moments to give Greybone some attention. He took off his gloves and signalled for the cat to jump into his arms. The tiny, slim body was trembling beneath that soft layer of silky fur. Each caress lured a wave of purr from the cat and Cloud clutched the animal tightly to his chest, relishing the pulses of life exuding from the little frame.

"Are you hungry?" Cloud lifted the cat into view.

The front paws were protruding towards the master, whilst the lower part of the body was hanging relaxed and limp in the air. Greybone was undemanding in his ways and as long as he could be with Cloud he had no whims to mollify. Greybone was a lovely cat, despite his soul, and was the most loyal companion Cloud had ever enjoyed the company of. He would follow the master to every corner of the house and stay no more than a reach from being patted. He was additionally exceedingly intelligent and would even defiantly change the channel on the TV if he was displeased with what Cloud was watching. If the master was obstinate and dared to defy the kitty by assuming control over the remote, Greybone would jump into his lap and stare at him with displeasure. Stare at him with intensity just as he did now.

The longer Cloud gazed into those beautiful feline emeralds, the less he thought about the troubles of the world. The purring filled his vicinity and he forgot all about his heartache and the jealousy. A little paw brushed against his lips and the blond smiled. The cushioned foot was very soft and smelled of wet dirt; Greybone had been digging again in the flowerbed. He liked it there when it was clean. With careful and light steps he snuck under the lilies and waited for the doves to fall; thus, he was never hungry despite the canned cat food Cloud had spent money on.

The emotions tied to Greybone were very complex and there were times when the blond locked the cat into the cellar for the night, for the reason of not having to face Kadaj. Cloud had found a way. Kadaj had never appeared during daytime, and thus the blond knew the cat needed to be kept away during the night when the bars of the free will crumbled. Greybone carried Kadaj wherever Kadaj wanted to go, and thus the spawn was restrained if the cat itself was limited.

After a nice dinner, following a long shower, Cloud fell asleep on the couch in front of the TV. The movie was good, but the afternoon work had made him rather weary and in the safety of his own home, he was lulled into a relaxed state. The temperature outdoors was dropping and the cold crept through the windows, softly nipping at the skin of the sleeping young man. Cloud huddled up in his sleep, far too exhausted to even wake up. Sometime in the middle of the night the blond awoke to the flickering light from the TV, which was disturbing his eyes and blurring his vision. With an extended yawn and knuckles rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Cloud inspected his living room with a sluggish mindset, but as he caught sight of Kadaj sitting in an armchair near the sofa, he jumped up and growled viciously; adrenalin instantly pumping through his veins.

Cloud stepped up to the platinum youngster with "What the hell are you doing here again?"

Kadaj sat huddled up in the chair, arms rising to shield the body from the beating he was expecting for his disobedience. But something in his submissiveness made Cloud restrain the clutched fist in midair as he tuned in on the sweetness of the answer.

"You were cold… I gave you a blanket, that's all."

Cloud cast a scouting glance on his surroundings and indeed, there was a blanket now resting on the floor as he had kicked it off in his sleep. He frowned and fought to hold on to the anger that manifested as a growing thickness in his throat.

"What the hell," he grunted with vocal cords burdened by invectives crowding up, but the childishly simple explanation that floated freely from Kadaj dissolved the harsh words trying to cut through Cloud.

"It's cold out and you were freezing. I placed a blanket on you and… I guess I should have returned to the cellar."

"You should've," Cloud linked the harsh barbwire onto Kadaj's softness.

At first there was nothing but silence, but as his heart began to beat more gently, the blond allowed another burst of anger to inject his disposition with bitterness. His eyes narrowed into nothing but thin lines as he spoke with a dampened but dangerous hiss.

"Have you been able to get out of that place at any time?"

The feline emeralds of Kadaj were glistening in the scarce flicker of the rays emitted from the TV. His silence confirmed what Cloud wanted to know and the restrained fist was once again ready to blow, like a gun being cocked ready to fire.

"Yes," Kadaj admitted and stood up to face the blond master. "So hit me," he challenged. "It's what you want… you've prepared for it twice. Will that change anything?"

He moved closer with the grace and subtlety of a cat and Cloud couldn't help but notice the enchanting features of the silver one. The body was so slim and delicate that it lured Cloud's own being into assuming a dominant trait, but it was ever so misleading. Kadaj had never been submissive; he always knew what he wanted and his mind could lock him onto a target, which he would pursue with passion until he reached his goal. Kadaj was the most dangerous part of Sephiroth; his mind. Indeed, Kadaj possessed consuming passion and he was able to get his way no matter the effort he needed to put into it.

Suddenly, they were standing so close they could drink the breath of one another. Kadaj smelled of the lilies from the flowerbed, yet spiced with something organic that covered the tongue with a delicious flavor Cloud so desperately wanted to taste; to lick his way over those slender limbs and anchor his teeth into the lean flesh. In a weak moment, he leaned slightly forward, lips almost brushing against a gentle mouth. The air exuded from Kadaj's breath was forming a film of slight dampness on Cloud's skin, making the silver fiend seem ever so vibrant and alive. Cloud heard his own mind bend to the will of the body as alluring encouragements were pushing him into the presence of Kadaj. His hands slowly cupped the pale jaws and just as lips were to merge, Kadaj lowered his head, resting his forehead against that of the blond.

"Go back to sleep, Cloud," Kadaj whispered, removing the hands of the blond, whilst fighting his own desires to give in to the situation. "By the time you wake up this will be over."

The platinum boy stepped away from Cloud, his eyes revealing a dwelling soul wanting to remain in this presence, but somewhere in the depth of himself the blond was glad it turned out differently. Kadaj disappeared into the dark cellar, leaving Cloud cold and wanting, and the night seemed to last an eternity. The age of loneliness was dawning upon them all and the blond knew he would greet the morning still staring at the ceiling, cocooned in regret and only kept company by questions that were already lost in the past and would never return; "What if he would have stayed?" And the night continued on in sadness. It continued in feelings of abandonment… it continued on in the signs of anguish, restlessness and horror.

Past the rising Midgar and far across the outskirts of Edge, on a desolate ranch, a little girl was submerged in deep sleep; drowning in a world of horror. At least that is how it used to be and Barrett had grown accustomed to the constant interruption of his sleep and only drifted into shallow slumber. He still carried the anguish left behind by the scarring memories of Marlene's father, whom Barrett had to defeat and kill under unfortunate circumstances. Dyne had gone insane and posed a danger to all, but that was of course not the official version. Barrett didn't want Marlene to think that her father had died under disgraceful circumstances and so, Dyne would remain a hero to his daughter and his death was painted a heroic one. These memories were still lingering on and although Hunci was emancipated from these past events, the urge to care for the defenceless was incessantly hounding Barrett.

He was listening to the whimpers and moans from the adjacent room; Hunci was apparently talking in her sleep, but the sounds were not alarming and he drew the conclusion that his adoptive daughter was not having any nightmares. Barrett allowed himself to drift into deep sleep. Tomorrow was Saturday and the day off for him. If the night would allow it, he would have a late morning and then take Hunci to the town's best ice cream bar to indulge in the cool delight they offered.

Little did Barrett know, but Hunci was already eating ice cream. Her tiny feet were dangling over the thick branch of the cherry tree, whilst she hummed blithely. The tree was blossoming and she was surrounded by a magnificence of tiny, pink flowers with fragrances that seduced her senses in this fairytale world. She loved this world. She could talk to the butterflies, follow the wind to hidden treasures and play tic-tac-toe with her new friend. Hunci smiled as she licked the last bits of the chocolate flavor off the scoop beneath, which was coconut. She was thinking about her new friend – a silver wolverine.

He always came around this time and he seemed to just love ice cream too, particularly the coconut flavor, which was why she was saving the last scoop for him now. The sun was at its peak in the sky and the birds were chirping amongst the rich leaves. He always came around this time and she would always give him a coconut ice cream. The wolverine was a funny little creature. It had big fangs and powerful claws, but was ever so kind. The first time they met, Hunci had been afraid of it, but with time she had become accustomed to his presence. The first time she met him was when she got lost in the labyrinth.

It was a big labyrinth; an old stone labyrinth. The lady in the lake had appeared before Hunci with a difficult task that would repeat itself every night until solved. It was the wolverine that led Hunci every night into the labyrinth, but so far she had failed her task every night. That was all she remembered; she somehow always forgot what it was about and how come she had failed it. Well, it was time again. She heard the rustling of the leaves beneath the tree and knew her furry friend has arrived.

Hunci climbed down the tree and jumped to the ground from the lowest branch. The wolverine jolted and backed away a few steps, but nonetheless appeared again to get his share of the coconut ice cream.

The furry silver-colored creature happily lapped up the ice cream from the hands of the girl and continued to lick its whiskers long after the last bits were eaten. Satisfied with his afternoon snack, the wolverine started wandering about, sniffing and scanning its surroundings with all its senses. As in so many times before, Hunci followed the furry creature deeper into the forest. She was hopping merrily after the wolverine, picking flowers, throwing fir cones against the thick trunks of the trees, swaying with a dry stick she found on the ground and creating invisible figurines in the air.

And as so many times before, although forgotten with the morning sun, Hunci halted at the stone arch that suddenly appeared in the middle of nowhere. It was a very strange place to find a stone arch. It was in the middle and thickest parts of the woods and it was partly crumbled. It was old, ancient and mostly held up by the black vine that provided a cradle of branches for the blocks of mouldy stone. It all looked very fragile and the tiny girl felt increasingly uncomfortable at the thought of having to cross under it. Staring at the swaying blocks of heavy stone Hunci remained frozen a few steps away from the arch, staring at it with a mesmerized complexion. The branches of the vine were creaking and cracking as they gently swayed to the faint breeze playing between the trees.

Hunci's chocolaty brown eyes blinked at the arch, naïvely trying to determine the stability of the structure. She lowered her gaze as the wolverine caught her attention. He was moving about without a care in the world, playing around with a fir cone and pushing it around with his nose. Hunci giggled at the game, which induced a sense of safety and forgetfulness within her, and thus she followed the wolverine past the arch and along a forgotten path, towards a magnificent maze.

It looked like a tiny dome from afar, but as they advanced closer, the dome inverted into a well in the ground. A staircase led to the belly of the ground and circled way, way deep down into the darkness. Hunci felt the cold from beneath strive towards the warm skies that grew more and more distant above her. With each step it was ten times harder to turn back. Realizing she was more than half way into the belly of the earth, the little girl knew she would not be able to turn back.

Hunci could hear the scratching of the tiny claws from the wolverine somewhere further down. It sounded as he had already reached the bottom and was playing around in the obscurity. On occasion, the scarce light from the mouth of the well shimmered off the silver fur, guiding the little girl towards a predestined goal. With a deep breath, released through trembling lips, Hunci stepped off the last step and found herself in vast, black space. Her tiny heart was racing and hammering like that of a frightened doe and with a steady grip of the stick she was carrying, Hunci greeted the unknown with a gentle, "Hello… anyone there?"

Then she saw it again. A small flash of light of silver and she began chasing the light with carefree laughter. A flash here, a glimmer there and always evasive and guiding her through the invisible maze of shadows. Her laughter was a bit strained and overly enthusiastic as befitted a child, but it was partly to fool herself and to dampen the fear arising from the faint whispers of the shadows. Her laughter echoed in her own footsteps as she followed the shiny wolverine to the center of the maze where a tiny candle lit the entrance to a cave. The last thing she perceived before being completely devoured by darkness was the smooth silky fur of the wolverine disappearing inside.

Somewhere from the root of her conscious mind, still lingering on to the waken world, she remembered the things Barrett warned her about. Not to go with strangers, not to play alone at dangerous places, not to climb onto trees, not to go inside caves… not to go inside caves… the voice was faint, but it was there… not to go inside caves… not to do… what she did now…

The cave was small, hardly enough for an animal to crawl into, and the dirt rubbed off on her pretty new dress. The lace was torn by roots protruding through the ground, mud sticking to her skin and clothes, tiny rocks digging into her knees and tearing the stockings she wore. Insects were crawling over her back and arms, hitching a ride on her body as Hunci advanced after the wolverine she saw far ahead.

After what seemed an eternity, Hunci saw some light far ahead and crept closer. It was a tiny hole at the end of the burrow, hardly enough for the wolverine to crawl through but since she had no other place to go, Hunci followed her friend to the other side. She struggled to get her shoulders and hips through the opening, but finally she managed to push her way into a warm strange room of old bricks, which was lit by an open fireplace in front of which an odd creature was sleeping. The room was dark apart from that orange flickering glow from the fireplace and the five doors of brass in the corners. Indeed, the room was not square but had an odd shape of many walls and all angles were distorted.

She was afraid. Hunci knew she had been here before and that something bad always happened but she couldn't quite remember what it was. Her heart hammered wildly and her mind was fighting to remember the dangers associated with this room. Large pearls of tears appeared in her eyes and just as she was about to turn back, the wolverine rubbed itself against her legs and distracted the fear. Hunci smiled and squatted down to the creature and stroked its back.

"How do we get out of here?" she asked while looking at the different doors.

At once the creature left from beneath her hands running up to the pile of white pulsating flesh in front of the fireplace, circling it a few times. Hunci was hesitant to follow; it gave her shivers down her spine just to look at the heap of wet disgust emitting a hiss with each breath it took. She had seen it before, Hunci was sure of that. It looked like an underdeveloped human enveloped in pale marbled skin with black veins shining through; a fetus in an early stage without eyes and proper limbs. But it possessed several tentacles that were coiling all over the floor and across its face was a large mouth that almost split the head in half. The mouth was lined with razor-sharp teeth protruding through the gums like daggers. The breath that steamed out of the ogre's mouth was hot and foul making Hunci almost choke on her vomit as the stench of rotting flesh hit her senses.

She wanted to back away from the stale creature on the floor, but the wolverine climbed boldly on top of it and scratched on the partly open mouth of the monster, trying to communicate with his crude ability. The wolverine was trying to show her something it seemed and the little girl took a few careful steps towards the fiend. It was when Hunci saw the object she had seen so many times before she began to cry.

A key was hidden in the mouth of the monster and she knew her dream was coming to an end; she knew she was soon to die. It always ended here, but she couldn't remember why. She had to take the key and find the right door. The question was why and which door?

From the increasing intake of breath, and the rapid contractions of the deformed chest, Hunci was sure the monster was waking up. She had to take the key. She stepped closer, heart pounding in her throat, sweat breaking out on her palms and stomach cramping with fear. The butterflies in her stomach were no longer just fluttering around, they felt like a storm inside; a storm of something that was trying to reach the light from the depth of her belly. It was her fear; it was trying to get free. Hunci took a step closer, eyes blinded by tears, and just as her trembling little hands reached above the monster's open mouth, a slight movement brought about a strange sensation in her mouth that make her back away. Her tongue moved about in her mouth, trying to identify the foreign object but then she spat it out. A dying fly was crawling around in her saliva, wings wet and sticking to its body like a restraint.

Horrified by her discovery, the fear she tried to hide stirred even more from within and buzzing flies soon filled her vicinity in a black cloud. They immobilized her, pouring out of her mouth, crawling out of her ears and nose. They blinded her, made her deaf, made her mute and consumed her with mortal dread. The little girl cried beyond consolation and the fiend was about to wake up. Hunci sat in a corner, hoping by some miracle to be invisible and tried to muffle her sobbing as the wakening creature swallowed the key in its mouth. She knew her fate was sealed. The key to her freedom was lost forever.

The tentacles were coming alive like coiling snakes and the deformed body was beginning to move. The open mouth was closing then opening again, displaying the hunger that foamed in the corner of its mouth. Saliva dripped onto the floor and turned the rock into an effervescent porous sponge like acid. The flies were everywhere now and called for the monster. It started crawling, slowly but with a determined goal towards the shuddering girl.

The fiend emitted a hungry shriek that made the walls tremble like fragile windows. The other world was just outside but she was trapped in here, where no one would hear her desperate cries. As her last resource to salvation she called the only name she could remember in this nightmare; Barrett. Would he be in time to save her?

As a loyal friend the little wolverine stood as a faithful guard between Hunci and the approaching danger. He was hissing fiercely, using all the bravery in that little body to protect his only friend from harm. But the battle was unfair. Cries of pain that resembled more that of a human than an animal were echoing inside the room as the little creature was torn limb from limb like a doll in the grip of the monster. It had happened so quickly; the muscles in the torn body parts were still twitching although the head was no longer controlling the impulses. The body was scattered all over the room.

Still hoping she would be invisible if she remained still, Hunci huddled up in the corner burying her face in her lap and hoping the dream would end soon. She could hear the wet flesh slapping against the floor as it advanced closer. It was dripping, hissing, moaning and growling all the way towards the corner, then suddenly it stopped. The room went completely quiet.

As with sinister cruelty, Hunci's gaze was met by a gaping, black mouth with dagger-like teeth when she opened her eyes. It had waited for her to see its face, to see the terror that would consume her. The last thing she remembered was her stomach being ripped open and the flies pouring out in her blood.

Barrett ran into the room. Hunci was completely covered in sweat and her sheets tangled around her body like snakes. She was screaming and calling out Barrett's name over and over until her dream scattered and allowed for the morning light to chase the fear away. Barrett was there, holding her. She was safe; yet she had failed once again. No matter how comforting the embrace of the father, she knew that there would be yet another night to endure. She had failed.


	12. The Book

**The Book**

Vincent had been sitting in the dark, gazing through the window and thinking about his beloved Lucrecia. The day was slowly turning into night and he had been alone for hours. After completing a task given to him by a local farmer, who was plagued by beasts ravaging and destroying the cattle, Vincent returned home and locked himself into his humble room; locked himself into his own mind.

Suddenly, there was a knock on his door and after turning on the lights he stepped up to open it. A gentle smile greeted him. It was the granddaughter of the old lady who rented out the room to him. The girl was about ten-years-old and came over at times to spend the evenings with 'Granny'. This time, they had made pancakes and she brought up a few to the 'quiet man in the attic room'. Vincent thanked the little one for her kindness and remembered he had a small charm bracelet in the bedside table drawer, which was left behind and never claimed by the previous tenant. For that reason there was no harm in letting the little girl have it.

"Wait a minute," Vincent said with a deep, soothing voice as he walked up to the bed. When opening the drawer to get the bracelet, the red, little booklet once again revealed itself. He had forgotten all about it. Vincent halted for a second and remained frozen, staring at the booklet, the diary of Sephiroth, for sometime. He didn't know for how long, but a childish voice snapped him back saying:

"Mister, I have to go down now, or my Granny will think you're up to fishy stuff."

Vincent chuckled whilst handing the bracelet over to the little girl who happily ran down the stairs, anxious to show her Granny what the man had given her for the pancakes. Once closing the door, he immediately walked up to the bedside table and retrieved the booklet. Near the warm, orange glow of the table lamp he opened it up and looked through the empty pages. There was nothing there. Confused and a bit frustrated over not finding the answer to the puzzle on how to read it, Vincent soon realized there was only one way to get insight into Sephiroth's mind. He took a bite out of the jam-filled pancake and picked up his cell phone to dial a number he had saved, but not used in months.

The person on the other side answered with a comment.

"I thought you'd be calling me a lot sooner, Mr Valentine."

"Miss Khin," Vincent sighed smiling, but couldn't really finish the sentence as he was too embarassed to reveal his incompetence to unravel the text in the book. Luckily, Miss Khin came to his rescue. Almost drifting on a sixth sense, she asked; "You haven't read it yet, have you?"

Vincent nodded to himself with a sheepish frown, and took another mouthful out of his pancake, admitting between bites that he had not managed to find the secret of how to make the pages reveal their contents.

"I thought you knew the ways of Sephiroth. You were all so certain he had to die, yet you cannot read a simple diary."

From her extensive exhale, Vincent understood she was smoking.

"It's not healthy, you know," the Turk dropped with a tinge of warning, but in a kind tone.

"Neither is having friends like you, since there is no support or love to get there," she bit back immediately, though hearing nothing other than silence, Miss Khin eased a little. "I'm sorry," she retracted her crude comment. "I guess you'd like to know how to read the diary."

"Yes, please."

"May I ask, why you didn't ask this before?"

Washed over by his guilty conscience, Vincent explained he had dropped the booklet into the drawer and forgotten all about it.

"All right," she said, "but you do have some nerve turning to me after all you've said about that poor boy."

"Miss Khin," Vincent stepped in. "I'm sorry. I was wrong and I would very much like to know who he was, to see him from your view. Please, tell me how to read this."

Once hung up, Vincent immediately went into the bathroom. Dropping his clothes on the floor, he stepped into the shower and sank onto the floor with the book in his lap as the words of Sïana Khin were repeating in his head:

 _"_ _He used to write in the shower. After a hard day of experiments and training, he would lock himself in the bathroom and just write in that book. He didn't do it very often, but when he did get the inspiration to write, he'd spend a long time in the water. He had a thing about that book; making sure people wouldn't see anything in it."_

The water pelted against the pages, soaking the off-white sheets and brought out the deep purple color of the text.

"How childish," Vincent thought with amusement, "disappearing ink."

Indeed, it was a childish idea, yet ingenious in its simplicity. Only a child could hide and protect something from the world of the grown ups. When wet, the texture of the sheets was more like fabric than that of paper and wouldn't tear whilst revealing the ink. Vincent read page after page and the mist was filling the bathroom to the point where it was masking the features of the room in a veil of soft vapor. He turned off the water, but remained seated in the shower, still reading.

There was a particular section he noted, written in beautifully curved letters and perfect handwriting. He read it over and over; Sephiroth, a ten-year-old boy.

 _"…_ _I snuck out today. 'They' don't know it, but when the ventilation shuts down during the three-hour interval, I can get to the main shaft and from there onto the roof. I like it there. I am sitting there alone with the doves. The doves are my only friends. I sometimes dream I could fly away with them, someplace far, and somewhere where the others can't find me. Sometimes I close my eyes and it feels so real. I really think I am flying, and I smile. I feel free. Free from the blood and the pain. It all just washes away and I can be myself; just free. But when I open my eyes I realize I have never even taken off from this roof, and all I have is bird-shit on my feet…_

 _I have this wing these past years, but it is dead, limp and useless. 'They' claim that it is only until it's fully developed and strong enough to carry me and I'll be able to use it, but I have my doubts. It looks so fragile, so weak. The feathers aren't even strong enough like those left behind by doves. I pulled one remige out the other day… it hurt so much because it was a big one. It was not hollow like a bird feather, it was fleshy along the stalk, barbs easily torn and it resembled down more than feathers. Well, I have loads of filoplumes, which look like hair, and down, and then I have the coverts and remiges._

 _The problem is, as professor Hollander said, that the remiges are still in development. He says the remiges are flight feathers but I don't know… I can't even control when it comes out or recedes. I find it more of a nuisance than benefit. However, I sometimes imagine that I really can fly and the birds like it when I show them the wing. They aren't afraid and they like to sit on it… and poop too. They poop a lot up here, but I don't mind. Miss Khin cleans my wing every day. I like her. She is nice to me, not like a lot of others. She knows I'm up here but doesn't care and she lies on my behalf too. But I can't let her get into trouble, because if she is removed from me I won't have friends around. And she brings me cream cakes every day. So when I hear the shafts coming alive again then it's time to go back before the others know I'm gone."_

It wasn't only water running down his face when Vincent closed the diary. There was a river of emotions flowing through eyes that had been dry for decades. In his hands, he held the dear memories of an innocent boy whose soul was crushed and moulded into pure evil; the child was lost inside Sephiroth, but not destroyed. He was always present and brought about elements of joy.

" _I don't know how long I've been trapped under ground. I can still feel the pain and the taste of metal in my mouth. 'They' injected something into me and then had me run for hours. I threw up several times and each time I slowed down 'they' wanted me to achieve more. 'They' said it's my destiny to endure more and be more than anyone else. Why? The other kids don't. They have parents coming and taking them home. Sometimes Professor Gast does that with me too. He has a little girl and her name is Aeris and just a toddler and probably has cooties. Some of the other boys say all girls have cooties… so I wonder what makes them contract little bugs more than boys. I haven't noticed anything after being at Aeris' place, so I think she's clean._

 _Last week she wanted to play with 'dollies'. I really don't like dollies, but it was her birthday so I endured an hour making imaginary cookies. Luckily Mrs Gast came in with a bunch and I suggested to Aeris that it was baked in her plastic oven so that I could eat it. It was funny. She had three, I had about fourteen. She was going to show me how to eat cookies properly as a princess. I don't know why I have to eat like a princess, but she was teaching me to 'dip and nibble', while I was 'dunking and gulping'. Every time she would tell me 'No, you're doing it wrong!', so she would 'dip and nibble' and I'd take a whole cookie to dunk and gulp._

 _I don't like her dollies, but I like her big fluffy dog. I know it's a stuffed toy, but when I sleep there she lets me have it and I can cuddle it all night. I like cuddling, but 'they' tell me it's wrong. Soldiers don't cuddle and when I want a hug 'they' turn away. Only Miss Khin doesn't care. She fights for me and I like her. She is so nice to me and I can cuddle her as much as I want."_

Vincent was overtaken by the alternative reality that Miss Khin had presented at the meeting. The reality that was so hard to believe, yet it was right there in plain sight. Sephiroth was able to feel and he had needs that were only scarcely satisfied. How unreal and unexpected, but it opened up a new world that Vincent felt most enthusiastic about and compelled to explore. Vincent read the passage again:

"… _I can cuddle it all night. I like cuddling, but 'they' tell me it's wrong. /…/ and I can cuddle her as much as I want. /…/ …I can cuddle… all night… I like cuddling… I can cuddle… as much as I want… I can cuddle… all night… as much as I want."_

Vincent drifted into the darkest hours of the night with the thought of what life would have been like, if he had been the stepfather of Sephiroth. What if Lucrecia had chosen him instead of Hojo, and agreed to marry him? Vincent would have brought up Sephiroth as his own child. Would the boy had become a Turk too, and be like a real son to him? Would Vincent and Lucrecia have had the power, patience and devotion to nurture him beyond the heritage of Jenova? Would Vincent have really wanted to have Sephiroth as a son…?

The answer to that question came rumbling up from the depths of his soul. Chaos spoke in his voice, opposing the outrageous proposal. No! Sephiroth was a lover… a soul mate… he was far closer than a child to his parents. He wasn't a part of Vincent's flesh and blood; he was a part of his soul, reaching deeper and moving more profound instincts and forbidden desires… a place that is forbidden for parents and children. Vincent was suddenly moved by a deep impulse and following a moment's respite, he acted upon it.

* * *

Miss Khin was surprised to be awakened in the middle of the night. Surely, she expected no visitors. Her life was intertwined with solitude and no one has ever visited her without announcing it in beforehand. She put on her dressing gown and wrapped it tightly around her waist, almost as if she expected it to shield her from the world. Her elegant slippers with slightly elevated heels gave her a dignifying height when she straightened her back and as a lady, Miss Khin would never greet another person in an indecent condition. It had to do with respect to the other person she always said, so she swiftly wiped her eyes with cotton pads, applied a little mascara and lip-gloss before opening the door.

"Mr Valentine?" she jolted with surprise.

"It was you!" he exclaimed, pointing at her with the book and stepped inside without being invited.

Although a proud dame, Miss Khin always had humor or a set of jokes close at hand and thus rolled her eyes sighing; "Yes, why don't you come in, dear?"

"It was you," Vincent repeated and followed her into the kitchen where she engaged in preparing a pot of tea.

She turned on the tap and filled up the kettle asking; "What have I done now, Mr Valentine? Am I under arrest for something?"

Vincent placed the book on the table then seated himself on the edge at which he was corrected by Miss Khin for in her opinion the table was meant to eat on and chairs to sit on, and she wasn't particularly keen on eating where someone else's behind had been. Vincent burst into laughter and moved up to her at the stove.

"This is exactly what I'm saying! It was YOU who made Sephiroth human."

Miss Khin cocked her head and gave him a strange expression, which carried traits of both a smile and a frown.

"Oh no, Mr Valentine, as much as I'd love to take credit for such an achievement, I can't," she walked past Vincent to the cupboard to fetch some rhubarb-vanilla tea. "Sephiroth had it in him,"

"But you enhanced it," he argued. "Look, there is no need to hide it. I read the pages and the way his thoughts were evolving are so much like yours. I recognized so many traits that I witnessed when you were defending him. He was the same way. Defending what he believed was right no matter how many stood against him. You gave him the backbone the corporation and his deranged father were trying to target…"

"Are you trying to flatter me, Mr Valentine?" she asked humorously and poured the tea leaves into the porcelain pot. Completely absorbed in her actions, she continued. "In that case, it's working."

"Sephiroth had two mothers, but the one who gave him the most was someone with no biological ties," Vincent said, resting his flashing rubies on her wakening complexion.

"Mr Valentine, biological ties don't necessarily mean that we will be good parents."

She handed a cup of tea to him and sat down at the table. Vincent removed his mantle and joined her. She tried avoiding staring too bluntly at him, but couldn't help commenting on his appearance.

"Your face is very beautiful, Mr Valentine. You shouldn't hide it."

Vincent lowered his head and stared into the delicate and nicely hand-painted cup.

"It's not something I like showing to people," he defended himself. "It has changed a lot in my mind."

"Confidence issues, Mr Valentine?" Miss Khin smirked and crossed her slender legs which allowed her gown to slip open and reveal her feminine lines.

Vincent's eyes searched unintentionally towards the tiny feet, tucked inside slippers, the smooth shins, the curve of her knees and the slim thighs. To his surprise, Chaos awoke in a flash bringing about a peculiar hunger he had only felt with Sephiroth.

Noticing this audacious scrutiny of her features, Miss Khin arranged her gown to hide her legs and cleared her throat to catch his attention. Vincent lifted his gaze and was met by a set of pursed lips and bunched eyebrows.

"See something you like, Mr Valentine?"

"I did until you hid it," Vincent countered with his deep, seductive voice placing the cup on the table.

He walked up to the lady squatting down in front of her and placing his hands on her knees to open up her gown again whispering, "I'd like to see more."

"That's pretty straight forward of you, considering we didn't exactly part as friends the last time," Miss Khin bit down curtly, but Vincent didn't take notice.

"I haven't been with a woman for… coming up to forty years," he exhaled, running fingers gingerly up her thighs and feeling his member coming alive between his own.

"Meaning…" she waited for that trigger of a witty response that would determine if this man was worth opening up to.

Miss Khin was a woman of high standards in all fields. And then it came.

"Meaning, if you could seduce an angel like Sephiroth," he pulled her up from the chair, holding her close whilst continuing with eyes glowing like molten gold, "then I can only imagine what wonders you could do for a simple daemon like me."

Chaos kissed the last words into her mouth and the two united behind closed bedroom doors. Sounds of pleasure and moans of ecstasy were filling the empty spaces of the apartment, bearing witness to intense lovemaking and fulfilled desires. Vincent and his Daemon indulged in the scent of a woman only recalled from the farthest corners of past memories, and relished the taste his mouth was coming alive to. The sensations of tender breasts, decorated with dark, erect nipples, like a palace of rock on top of soft desert dunes hidden under his cupped palms. His mouth merged with lean and petal-like lips dripping with feminine nectar and inviting him to reach deeper; tongue probing and pressing against the entrance. His mouth was reawakened to the sensations of a swollen little rose-bud in the centre of the petals.

Vincent almost spent over the sheets being encouraged by hands locking him greedily against a delicious mound as Miss Khin climaxed from his actions. His seed was lost long before his erotic journey over a woman's body had come to an end, but his own being was starved of affections and thus his soldier held a proud stance throughout the night, leaving his partner satisfied and pleasantly weary on stained, satin sheets. The desires he once harbored for Lucrecia Crescent were now flowing inside her son's mistress. Life was so crazy… so ironic... so complex, but Vincent regretted nothing.

"I can understand why he loved you," Vincent whispered, fingers tracing the lines of her smiling face.

"You've tasted him too, haven't you?" she asked and kissed his fingers passing by her lips.

Vincent nodded.

"Well, then you know how difficult it is to deny him his wish," Miss Khin explained. "If I had still been young and pretty, I'd go back to him. But now, I don't think I'd dare to show myself to him. I'm glad it's dark out… so that you can't see the details of time's hands."

"Miss Khin," Vincent hushed her with a kiss, "I should be more than seventy years old by now. I've seen a lot of things, many people, young and old, and what you have reaches beyond age. Believe me," he moved on top of her, "I can see in the dark just as well as in daylight. I can see every delicious little attribute that makes you so desirable and yet you discard them as flaws. I don't care about the tiny dents on your skin." He caressed the side of her thighs where signs of cellulite, despite her best efforts to stay in shape, were showing.

"One would hope so, but it's difficult sometimes to know, because in order to get even the slightest of attention one has to compete with those pretty, young girls. But that's life, and life, Mr Valentine, is not fair for a woman who has passed her bloom," she sighed through a slight complaint, but Vincent smiled and guided her hands to his bottom, encouraging her to take a firm hold whilst he gently entered her again. He closed his eyes to enhance every little inch that pulled him inside of her.

"I am a MAN, not a boy," he moaned and began moving his hips; pace guided by her hands. "I need a WOMAN and not a girl."

His memories of Lucrecia had faded for that night and emptied of his remaining strength, Vincent closed his eyes and in his slumber he dreamt of a little boy flying with the doves.


	13. You Are Not Alone

**YOU ARE NOT ALONE**

The Wutai-inspired restaurant had recently been opened and, according to Tseng, the food was exceptionally nice; the lunch menu was particularly appealing, satisfying in both price and cuisine, which was why he spent most of his lunch hours, whenever possible, at this new place. He was just about to dig into his meal of heavily seasoned chocobo stew with thick noodles, when he caught sight of Cloud walking through the entrance. The young man walked up to the counter and took a swift glance at the menu before he decided to leave. On his way out, he couldn't help but notice Tseng at a remote corner of the room. It wasn't difficult really, it was still early and the customers were yet to pour in.

He stepped up to Tseng with a relaxed attitude, arrogance almost bouncing off his ways. It wasn't anything anyone reflected over, for it was Cloud in a nutshell. A kind heart beneath a tough shell, hence his unbeknownst nickname 'the Coconut'. Tseng often and furtively referred to Cloud in that way for it was a word embodying all that the blond was, especially since the death of Zack, which seeded a sense of confusion in the blond and left him recluse. Zack gave up his last breath in a plea for Cloud to continue living on for them both and in the wake of the experiments by Hojo that veiled the blond in confusion about his identity, his soul simply fused with the identity of the brunet. Cloud wallowed in uncertainty not knowing what memories belonged to him or what Zack experienced. Following the battle with Sephiroth and the remnant brothers, Cloud had gained more clarity, but instead of wallowing in confusion, he continued wallowing in self-pity. There was no escape from Sephiroth. In one way or the other, he anchored on to the sanity of the living, refusing to let go like a malicious nightmare that lingers on during the waking hours.

However, there was something soft about Cloud this particular day and Tseng encouraged him to order something and join him for lunch and he accepted. As the lunch progressed into more than an hour their discussions deepened and turned very personal. It wasn't anything they had planned or ever experienced, since neither had ever been close enough to engage in anything other than bantering, but the words just flowed like little rivers out of the two, merging in a common interest like all streams lead to the ocean.

"I saw Rude with Tifa the other day," Cloud began almost choking on his food, but bravely kept on chewing, allowing the bitterness to leave him. "I guess they've been dating for a while."

Tseng watched the blond, at first without saying anything, but as Cloud asked him about Tifa's happiness, he felt urged to respond honestly.

"Yes, they're doing fine."

Expecting an outburst Tseng went through every possible comforting cliché he could come up with, but the conversation took a drastic turn for the better. Cloud nodded understandingly and washed his bitterness down with a sip of cold beer.

"I'm glad," he smiled, "I couldn't have given her all that…"

"I guess it's not within you yet, Cloud. Your life has been turbulent as I understand it. Tifa hasn't mentioned any details besides that you've had trouble sleeping and that it had a detrimental effect on your relationship."

Cloud raised his head, looking through the window they sat close to and nodded.

"She's right. I can't even remember sleeping the night through without being awakened. True about the relationship, but I guess I could've learned."

"No. It's not something you learn, Cloud. It either comes naturally or you're forcing it. If you're forcing it, it's not going to have a great ending. Let this go, kiddo, they are happy and… as I see it, there's a lot on your mind at the moment."

Tseng leaned back in the chair as the waiter cleared his empty plate and took the order for dessert. As the man left their table, Tseng directed his fullest attention to Cloud and broke the silence with a provocative approach.

"Something's really bothering you, Cloud, and it's not Tifa. You and I have never had a heart-to-heart conversation about anything, so since we're breaking patterns… or new ground… why don't you let me in on it? I can keep silent, you know that."

Cloud nodded and studied the glass of beer as if he was expecting to find his own answers among the hundreds of tiny bubbles. He held the glass in both hands and leaned back in the chair with the words; "I haven't slept well in a long time, Tseng."

"Why's that?" came as a resolute inquiry.

Cloud smiled and shook his head, eyes still focused on the beer as he spoke.

"I've been having nightmares ever since I killed Kadaj. I've been reliving that moment over and over for so long… that I'm regretting it."

Grave silence settled upon them; one waiting for an answer, the other muted by surprise. Finally, Cloud went on.

"I know it sounds stupid, but it's almost like…" he halted and looked up at the ceiling, then out through the window only to focus on the beer again, constantly avoiding eye contact with the stunned Turk in front of him. "It's as if I made a mistake, a crime, by killing him, you know? I just… I'm just constantly plagued by those dreams and I feel guilty for doing my job. For doing what was expected of me. It's stupid, I know. It's like I wake up hugging the damn blanket as if it was him… Kadaj… expecting to feel a single breath from it."

Still no response and thus, Cloud waved it off with a smirk to mock his own childish beliefs.

"Crazy, right? I can still feel his breath in my face, the heart beating slower and slower… stupid thoughts. Stupid… just stupid."

"It's not stupid, Cloud," Tseng calmed him, just in time to capture the tail end of the spoken words before they disappeared into the past. "I have those dreams too. I have nightmares about the past. I have nightmares… about Yazoo. It's almost obsessive… compulsive. It-wont-let-me-go!"

The blood surged in his ears, heart hammering against his ribcage and the remaining beer spilled all over the table as the glass in Cloud's hands shattered. The waiter appeared immediately to aid the two men and wiped up the yellow liquid pelting against the wooden floor. During this whole time, Cloud remained silent and just kept on staring at Tseng. Was he only joking? Making fun of Cloud for being so moved by some silly dreams? Maybe Tseng didn't understand the severity of the dreams; these were not ordinary nightmares.

"I know what you mean," Tseng assured once the waiter had left them. "I know they are not JUST nightmares. Not the kind I used to have as a kid. These are REAL, Cloud. I wake up with sensations still burning on my skin, pain in my gut and the smell and taste choking the life out of me."

A slight shiver ran through the blond at the liberating emotions of knowing he wasn't insane or alone in having these tormenting dreams. The expression in Tseng's face revealed no traces of dishonesty or derision, and thus, Cloud told the Turk everything, allowing the conversation to tick into a second hour. Tseng had shut down his mobile and his pager; for once, he took the liberty of setting aside his job for someone else.

Cloud spoke without restraint and told the most remarkable story that began with nightmares of torment.

"I've never really told anyone, Tseng… not even Tifa in detail… so please, treat it as any order from Rufus. I started having those nightmares soon after his death. At first, I started feeling this crazy presence in the house. Every time I was alone I felt like I was being watched. It was eerie and I felt I couldn't breathe. Then that feeling came over me every night and I started waking up to the voice of Kadaj calling. It was like a whisper. I thought I was crazy and maybe it was Tifa calling out in the middle of the night… you know… if I was snoring or something. But no. I started seeing things and I couldn't tell if the dreams were real or not.

I kept on hearing a kid crying, always the same boy, the ceiling melting into boiling metal and this kid was drowning in it. He looked so familiar and he was so helpless… so alone… and every time I tried helping him I failed. He drowned. I heard his voice long after… after I woke up. 'On your feet!' I just couldn't help him and the more I dreamt of him the more Sephiroth appeared in my head. I kept on remembering all those warm memories… nothing bad. It was so strange, Tseng."

Cloud lifted his drowned gaze and landed on the calm expression of the Turk leader,

"I remembered the nice things. The time when Zack, Danzee and others got themselves arrested… and also when he bought cream cakes from Mr Lockley…"

"Cream cakes?" Tseng cocked his head. "Seriously? Sephiroth?"

Cloud nodded. "Yes, I promised never to reveal, but who cares now, right?"

"Right," Tseng chuckled.

"He apparently bought cream cakes every morning from Mr Lockley. He was obsessed with them. He had a serious sweet tooth, the General. Probably every pearly-white tooth in that… seductive smile of his. He could capture anyone with that smile of his, eh?"

Cloud tilted his head a little whilst gathering his thoughts. He had never before opened up in this way and some of the words trailed off into territories that were highly uncomfortable to speak about, but Tseng was well aware of the seductive force in the General and his allure that drew people into his presence like a magnet.

"You weren't the only one that had a sweet spot for the General, Cloud. He had abandoned all intimacy by the time you came into the army, but he couldn't abandon the beauty and his underlying hunger. I know, as did Rufus, that he occasionally slipped due to that… hunger. It was easy for him to find occasional lovers. It happened so seldom, though, it was almost as much of a myth as urban legends."

"It wasn't so much being attracted to him, Tseng, but he made you helpless when you were close enough. So… incredibly… captivating. Just, couldn't breathe… and even if you wanted to break free you just couldn't. He overrode all instincts and natural desires. I never even considered the possibility of coming close to a man before, but when he stood next to me… I just lost it."

"Everybody lost it, Cloud," Tseng clarified. "You, Zack, cadets, Soldiers, women, men… even that deranged father of his had to admit that one thing Sephiroth had inherited from Jenova was her undisputed charm and beauty. What Jenova couldn't seduce with power, she defeated with that incredible appearance. She was beautiful despite it all. Have you seen the photos?"

Cloud nodded. Indeed, he had seen the files of Jenova, the ancient species of an extra terrestrial origin who could assume any form or shape by integrating into the appearance of the dominating species of a given biosphere. It could be genderless, male, female or both. It was mere chance that she appeared before the team of excavators when she was found. She had been dormant for eons and finally awakened by the greedy. Her long, silvery hair was flowing like silk over the shoulders, just like that of her son. Sephiroth also carried her pale skin, the slender, but sinewy and strong statue, the long fingers, the thin but symmetrical lips, above which sat that straight and pronounced nose and the near perfect almond-shaped eyes.

But Sephiroth also had some traits from his father. He had a pointed chin and chiselled face with high cheekbones, which was a feature that had once attracted love-sick students into the presence of Hojo. In fact, the insane professor was once quite the handsome devil until years of obsessive workaholism etched lines into his face and eroded the charismatic features he once bore. And Lucrecia; she had in a way been average in her appearance, but she was appealing with a bubbly personality and a naughty sense of humor that sometimes broke through in Sephiroth's dry comments. Lucrecia was never late with dropping a comment that had a double meaning or in some way would allude to cheekiness. She was lovable, and so was her son.

Despite his reclusive and distancing behavior, his spirit was effervescent like that of Lucrecia and called for people's presence in the same way as she drew Vincent in, even if she could not reciprocate his love. Unfortunately, she could also be self-consuming, just as her son was. Once a greatly extroverted young lady, she soon submerged in her own feelings of guilt when Professor Grimoire Valentine died during an accident that she considered herself to be responsible for, until she was so lost in her remorse that she no longer could break free to smile. Just like her son. Sephiroth was a complex and yet a beautiful mix of traits that made him a multifaceted character whose personality could enrich the dull everyday life – but something had happened along the way. He was never really given the chance to live fully.

Tseng thought back on the years following Sephiroth's descent into madness when he was struck in the back by Cloud at Jenova's chamber and thrown into the Lifestream. Finding Zack and Cloud unconscious at the old facility by the ShinRa military, the two fighters were captured and experimented on for years by professor Hojo as his test subjects. Injecting them with Jenova's cells and exposing them to Mako, the insane scientist attempted to test his Jenova Reunion Theory by turning the two men into Sephiroth clones. After four years of hell, Zack managed to break out of his confinement also freeing a comatose Cloud to escape.

Due to the experiments, Cloud remained weak and delirious for many months and was more of a liability than benefit for Zack, but the former partner of Sephiroth was a true Soldier and would not leave the blond behind. During their journey on the run, Zack spoke continuously to the unresponsive Cloud about his life and his plans for both of them to become mercenaries in Midgar. However, after almost a year of running, the pair finally arrived outside Midgar where ShinRa forces finally caught up with them. Zack hid Cloud from harm and fought valiantly to defend them both, but the numbers of the forces overwhelmed him and the brunet was eventually gunned down.

Cloud was left for dead in his vegetative state, but managed to gather enough strength to crawl over to where Zack entrusted the Buster Sword to his friend. A confused and shaken Cloud scrambled to his feet and buried his best friend and with the sword in hand, he took his place in Midgar as a mercenary. Fulfilling a dream he was determined to carry on for both Zack and himself as their identities merged into one where Cloud could no longer distinguish between what was Zack or himself. But life interfered and time passed by bringing some clarity, although much had remained obscured.

The failure to retrieve Zack and Cloud before the ShinRa military reached them had plagued Tseng every since. The memory that plagued him the most, however, was the truth he knew about Cloud. The reason he had survived such cruel experiements for so long and the reason he could defeat Sephiroth along with the remnant brothers. The truth had been concealed in his heart and mind, and it was one little bit of Sephiroth that Tseng cherished like a loving memory. It was the very thing that seeded the growing affection he felt for Yazoo. Past those years of destruction when he had cursed even the day Sephiroth was conceived, often repeating "If only that man had never existed".

Tseng was now more convinced than ever before that he, along with so many others, had been too premature in their judgement of the General. Indeed, Sephiroth had given the world the very protection that could stop him from destroying everything; Cloud. That very protection, on the other hand, came at a cost… a secret that no one, not Tseng, Nanaki or Rufus, had ever dared to reveal to Cloud. The blond's mind had never fully recovered from the confusion about his identity and at times it rendered Cloud fragile and delirious. Tseng had, since the destruction of Sephiroth, not been able to say Sephiroth's name out of shame. But then again, almost no one spoke his name anymore. They all used synonyms or words relating to his profession, but never his given name, even though it had a beautiful ring to it. Finally, Cloud's story brought Tseng out of his trance where he had drifted off into the past.

"… and he is always present. Never leaves my side when I'm at home. But he's also affectionate in a strange and…" Cloud made a pause trying to find appropriate words without revealing too many details about the intruding presence of his burden "… and unnerving way. I swear to you, sometimes when he looks at me I see Kadaj staring back and then he sways off like Kadaj used to do and I feel cornered by them all over again. It's like they are more present now than when we were fighting and I find that I cannot escape. I can't escape him, Tseng. I can't escape Kadaj."

"So you mean Kadaj is still with you?"

Cloud nodded in response and Tseng asked if it was possible for him to meet with the extraordinary cat that had taken over Cloud's life. He had heard about Greybone previously since Tifa mentioned him a while back, but just the thought that this was Yazoo's brother in a physical shape breaching the border to the living, ignited a sense of anticipation he only felt the first time he was in love. And so, Tseng's thoughts turned to Yazoo anew.

"Yazoo is my burden," he announced seriously, but with a gentle smile ghosting over his lips as something flashed in the steady gaze.

Cloud thought he had noticed that little something, which was out of place, and tilted his head, leaning against the table somewhat closer to Tseng to see his features more clearly. Cloud's curiosity was scurrying about – searching, observing and silently questioning – his blond, spiky hair and characteristic fringe was arranged with styling products, making the shape stay in place no matter how he moved his head.

"How do you mean?" Cloud asked and Tseng revealed the course of his dreams; the tortures, the confusions between a wakened and dream state, and the hunger that was left behind each time the dreams ended.

However, no matter how deep the discussions, there was one subject that was far too personal to be mentioned. They both realized that there was something fundamental left out, for there was something inside that yearned to be confirmed and not dismissed as a vulgar addition from twisted minds. But the conversation was left there and a third hour together continued in the humble home of the blond.

When they arrived at the house, the feline was nowhere to be seen and thus the two men stepped into the lounge, carrying a bottle of cider and comfortably continuing the conversation where it left off. After a little while a soft complaint broke through their words and a small presence announced itself; a devout, silver feline showered his master with passionate affections even in the presence of a stranger.

"Welcome back, little hunter," Cloud smiled and wrinkled his nose at the sight of the blood-covered whiskers probing near his cheeks. "Had a nice meal?"

He took the cat into his lap and with a piece of cloth he had tucked inside his pocket, usually to clean off Fenrir's saddle after rain he wiped the mess off the face of the feline. The cat started purring and Tseng immediately reacted to the soothing essence the sound brought about. It wasn't a usual purr emitted through a small creature, it was deep, resounding and moving those deep instincts hidden inside. Unabashed of his audacious behaviour, the cat kept rubbing his face against Cloud's neck, chest and scratched desperately at the zipper on his sleeveless sweater in order to open it up enough to be able to sneak underneath it.

Cloud protested firmly and pulled the zipper up again; "No way, you little pervert."

It made Tseng laugh. They were like a married couple already.

"Why don't you let him have his way?" the Turk smiled and took a sip out of his cider.

"No way," Cloud lifted the cat into the air. "He stretches the fabric and those damn claws tear it to pieces. You have no idea how many sweaters he's destroyed for me. His claws are unusually sharp… like sword blades, I tell you. I tried cutting them, nearly ending up sliced myself, but by the next day they are back and sharper than before. It's no use, besides he's a real bitch too sometimes. If he's in a bad mood… phew… last week we got into an argument over who sleeps where, 'cause I didn't want him in my bed. The damn cat hid in my laundry basket, shredding everything to pieces and took a shit in it too."

Tseng burst into laughter. Yes, one could expect nothing less of Kadaj than proper revenge, regardless of the form or shape he was in.

"Is he friendly to others?" the Turk asked and reached for the cat, wordlessly asking for permission to hold him closer for inspection.

The cat posed no resistance as the embrace shifted, for a friendly caress was always welcome no matter by whose hands. Tseng dove into the eyes of the feline as it gazed upon him with a whimpering 'meow'. It seemed so fragile and vulnerable, but the power radiating from those eyes was unmistakable.

"Damn, you sure are a part of Kadaj," Tseng said and stroked the cat over the head. "Your eyes are just like your brother's. You're bony and thin, yet so strong in every fibre," Tseng caressed the cat over the back adding, "just like Kadaj. Beautiful and seductive, but it's a mistake thinking you are helpless."

The feline gave off another crisp tone of his voice and buried his head in the curve of Tseng's neck, licking him repeatedly with a raspy, little tongue.

"Very affectionate… and adulterous I see," the Turk nodded with a smile, acknowledging the previous statement by the blond.

After a moment of silence, Tseng cast a glance at Cloud, noticing the blond was submerged in thoughts as he watched the cat with feverish eyes, and the raven-haired warrior couldn't help but ask; "Is he like this at night too?"

Cloud snapped back into reality, watching Tseng who was scratching the belly of the cat as it lay stretched out in his lap.

"No," the blond answered calmly and realized that Tseng had hit on that delicate string hidden deeply inside them both.

As the string vibrated, those forbidden dreams found a voice delivered through carefully and thoroughly measured words.

Cloud cleared his throat as he went on; "At nights Kadaj emerges. Not always, just sometimes and…" he halted with reluctance to continue, but Tseng urged him encouragingly. "Well, he sometimes shows himself, but not always… but he is not the same as I remember. He is different, you know?"

Tseng was still playing with the cat when he lifted his gaze and dragged the answers out of the locked up expression of the young man. Cloud had a hypnotic mask shrouding his face as he inadvertently licked his lips. He didn't have to speak because Tseng knew instantly what was hidden in the depth of the burdened blond.

"I know," the Turk nodded and lifted up the purring cat. "I know exactly what you mean."

"What does it all mean?" Cloud asked and received Greybone as he jumped into his lap once again.

The cat trampled in a circle a few times then assumed a comfortable position to lie down. The master snorted a smile and jokingly accused the cat of being 'a spoiled little shit'.

"I don't know," Tseng brushed the hair off his clothes and continued sipping on his cider. "But I know that they have come to warn us about something."

"About what?"

Tseng shrugged, not being sure of what answers to give.

"Listen," Cloud continued, "a few weeks back, Nanaki called us for a meeting. It was all so strange. I still don't get why we were there, but there was this lady there, who had been the caretaker of Sephiroth when he was young…"

"Sephiroth again," Tseng repeated after Cloud. "Now that's a name not spoken by you this often in a long time. Not that direct and so… frank."

"I know," Cloud sighed. "We discussed a lot of details about the last few events before his final destruction, and I get the feeling Nanaki was trying to search for some answers… or something. What if he has these dreams too?"

Tseng pursed his lips, holding the sip of cider inside his mouth a few seconds before he swallowed it with a loud guttural sound.

"You think?" he asked. "I don't know Cloud… seems a little far-fetched, don't you think? We're talking about Nanaki here; the all-knowing and all-wise sentient. No?"

"I know," Cloud nodded a bit dejectedly, but then caught new fire as he brought forth a slight hope of a chance. "But what if that's the case? What if there are more people… others. Hey, if I call for a new meeting will you come too and tell them what you've told me?"

Tseng scratched his head, the sable ponytail resting against his shoulders and sliding over his chest moving gently to the rhythm of his motions.

"I don't know, Cloud," he said hesitantly. "It's a pretty weird thing to talk about. Especially with him and not to mention Vincent… if he'll be there too."

"Sure, it is," Cloud concurred, "but still. What if this has a bigger purpose, like you said? People would be entitled to know."

Tseng nodded and with a few large gulps emptied his bottle. Upon leaving he turned to the young man agreeing to show up for a meeting if it was necessary.

"But don't make it too soon," Tseng spoke from the doorway. "I wouldn't want to jump to conclusions. Let me have a think about it first, all right? After all, this is something that would be highly disapproved of by my boss. Turks and members of the Avalanche… well… it's an explosive mix, my friend. Explosive mix."

The two parted with an agreement and within a few hours the night had settled upon the day; blackening the skies and inviting the Moon to continue its everlasting dance.

* * *

Kadaj was leaning against the architrave, watching Cloud sleep, or at least that was what he thought of his master. But the blond was wide-awake and after a while he spoke.

"You are here again…"

Kadaj straightened his back and stepped away from the door. He swiftly apologized over his shoulder and turned to leave, Cloud intercepted his actions with an unusual invitation.

"C'mere," came from the darkness.

In the faint moonlight Kadaj could see the silhouette of Cloud opening up the cover and moving aside to make extra space in the bed. With a few insecure steps, Kadaj walked up to the bed and sat down on the edge.

"Are you sure?" he asked, but following an encouraging 'Yes', the clothes were left on the floor and a warm body embraced the platinum haired fiend from behind.

Kadaj felt his black heart violently beating to the sensations of another's arousal pressing against the fleshy cheeks of his behind. He gulped, nostrils flaring as he drew in the cool air of the surroundings, trying to chase away the urges that were moving and altering him from within. This was such an utter disgrace. He remembered the past, his days amongst the living. He had been a leader, a purebred evil in both body and mind, risen from the black lake along with his brothers, their cold hearts created to be unquenched by thoughts of either desire or lust. Why was he so weak now? Why was he so helplessly falling into Cloud?

He remembered the hatred he used to feel, the pleasure in killing, whereas now the only pleasure overtaking his mind sprung from the hope to feel gentle caresses and erotic lust. This realm was so distorted. He knew Cloud had been right denying him a while back; in fact, Kadaj would have done the same. Why was he now getting goosebumps all over when Cloud ran his fingers along his side? Why was his innocent body, that had up until his death in the world of the living remained untouched by anyone, coming alive so evidently, so vividly? Why did Kadaj, even in his daylight shape of a feline, constantly seek the presence of Cloud; throwing himself like a cheap prostitute under the cosseting hands of the blond, feeling those strong fingers run along his body over and over?

There were so many 'Why' and no 'Because'. He couldn't answer the questions and he couldn't stop himself from indulging in the blond. The hands that had once killed him in battle were now running gingerly along his stomach, tingling every inch they touched, and making Kadaj shiver with anticipation.

"Are you all right?" Cloud asked and stopped caressing the silver-haired man.

Kadaj nodded in silence, still turned away from Cloud and felt strong aversions against his own foolish needs. Through a careful push he was forced on his back and a slim body rested upon his own. His antagonistic wave took chase once Kadaj looked into the eyes of Cloud and lost himself in the smile that reflected the gentleness in the face of the blond. Finally, Kadaj dared to pose a series of questions.

"Why are we doing this?"

Cloud sighed and his smile vanished. "I have no idea, Kadaj," he answered whilst lowering his head and resting his forehead on the chest of the platinum younger man.

"Are we really doing the right thing?" Kadaj questioned.

The blond shook his head, still resting it on the pale chest. His whole body language spoke of disapproval, but he wasn't able to remove his burdening frame. Kadaj raked his fingers through the thick, blond hair and started chuckling.

"Do you remember those nights a while back? I don't remember if those were real or just a dream, but I remember how you used to drive me crazy and how all I was plotting was revenge. I think I was tearing your sweaters, hiding in the laundry basket, and you went absolutely rampant when you discovered me… you seemed so lame it was embarrassing. Did I take a dump in there…? I have some vague memories."

Cloud nodded, body trembling slightly with the silent laughter beneath him, his face still hidden on the pale, heaving chest. Kadaj went on in a narrative monologue, displaying his words in an audible manner to find some answers by which to structure the insanity ruling his life.

"I… I remember some things about the days I spend with you… but I've been in these nightmares for so long I can't remember what life was like before… not in any detail, just some sensations. I can still feel the anger flowing through someone inside me. I remember a forest of silver, glowing trees, a placid lake and the cold water. I was dissolved in it like a pillar of salt. After that it's all gone. Just dark."

Kadaj paused as he raked his fingers through Cloud's hair and kept on gently rubbing the nape of the blond's neck whilst drifting off in memories.

"The farthest back I can go, in comprehensive and linked memories, is me running… along a deserted road. It was dark and I felt I was being chased. I don't know by what, but I was chased and scared and then you appeared on your bike… almost running me over… and then you took me in to your home. Funnily, some of those memories are so faint… especially those that happen during the day. It's almost as if it's not me experiencing this life. It's like I'm standing on the outside watching someone else and living through them. It's so confusing, because the haze of the daytime seems endless whereas the night when I feel more complete just passes by quickly. And you sleep most of that time. Anyway, tell me Cloud, what do you remember when it comes to me?" Kadaj posed a disarming enquiry smilingly, trying to catch a bit of ease in the gloominess surrounding their past.

But as the memories of the past came rushing back, Cloud felt his body growing cold. He lifted his head, unable to hide the sadness flashing through his sapphires with those streaks of teal blending inside them.

"I remember killing you," the answer came as bluntly as a blow to the head and the defeated fiend beneath him lost his shine like a burnt out star.

The spawn removed his hands as the smile died on his pale lips. Suddenly, he started trembling, not only with sadness, but also consumed by sheer anger. Cloud felt overwhelming emotions of sincere sympathy wash over him and moved up to the silver youth to face him up-close.

"Listen, Kadaj, the other day I saw a crossbone-sticker on a bike in front of me and I felt a sense of panic. The only thing I had in mind was you. I sped home like a madman. I had to make sure you were here waiting for me. I couldn't imagine what it would be like not finding you here. You're right to be angry… this is not us. It never was. I don't know what's going on, why you came to me, why I feel this awkward with you. A while back, I wanted this to stop," Cloud emphasized. "Ever since the nightmares and your return, my life's been ruined. It has ruined my relationship, it awakened questions I don't want an answer to, its been making me think about things I wanted to leave alone… but…"

Silence settled within the long pause. Cloud remained absorbing the faint light, eyes growing accustomed to the moonlit features of Kadaj that were solidified in sternness. Bitterness, frustration, and a polarizing mixture of desire and hate, all amalgamated into the confusion that solidified within Kadaj.

"…but for what it's worth… I'm glad you came. You built up something new and you made the nightmares stop. I don't know why you are here, but it's given me more peace than I've had in a long time. I can't promise this won't change. Sometimes I feel it's good, sometimes it confuses me too, but I know one thing that's for sure…" Cloud stopped for a moment and allowed Kadaj to seize the earnestness in his word before he delivered a promise. "I'm gonna get you back, Kadaj. I'm gonna make the days and nights equal out."

"For good?" the silver man asked with hope and Cloud nodded sincerely.

An insecure smile transformed into a kiss on the lips of the blond and after a swift motion, Kadaj found himself in the receiving position beneath Cloud. A curious, smooth tongue circled his lips and evasively moved away each time Kadaj attempted to catch it inside his mouth. The wet tip teased the corners of his mouth and peeked slightly between his teeth, searching for a mate inside Kadaj's mouth. Desperate moans told of the frustration growing within the spawn and Cloud felt increasing pleasure in this intricate erotic game. His penis was only slightly gliding over the hips of the receiver, leaving streaks of glistening pre-ejaculate on Kadaj's fiery skin and slowly luring the silvery man into opening up. Cloud hunched over Kadaj, hips hovering above an open mouth in a mutual gesture that left the receiver shivering. When the first wave of euphoria set them ablaze Kadaj was once again willingly repositioned for more.

The spawn lay on his stomach and surrendered his being fully to the care and will of Cloud. He relaxed as much as he could, welcoming a thrusting member inside his body. The salty taste of Cloud's penis was still lingering on in his mouth and the sensations of its sturdiness against the bed of his tongue, the tender groin in his palms and the taste of his own semen when kissing it off the mouth of the blond. He had been close to losing his seed once again even when the slightly cool tongue of the blond was circling the swollen portal, lubricating and preparing it for intercourse.

Kadaj supported himself on the elbows, his bottom striving upwards to invite the swollen glans probing against his portal and accepted the pain it initially brought about, but as Cloud accidentally brushed against his prostate he found the pleasures in being the receiver. He looked down on himself and noticed his proud member striving towards his stomach even though its own weight pulled it down and tantalizingly rocked to the motions of the giver.

"Wait," the silver one panted and moved over onto his back.

Once finding a comfortable position, he placed his legs on Cloud's shoulders and exposed himself maximally. Cloud slipped effortlessly inside the tight and warm cave. It swiftly enclosed around his shaft, massaging every inch and reaching deep inside the hips of the other. Through Kadaj's commands, saturated with elation, Cloud moved his hips in circular movements to produce as much pleasure as possible for his unlikely lover. Each time the swollen glans swiped against the tiny bead inside Kadaj, the platinum youth stole a breath and with fingers wrapped around his own penis, he once again began his journey to ascend onto new heights.

Seeing his most beloved enemy so openly displaying his desires, chased the wistful past into oblivion and Cloud joined his lover to climb higher on the intensity of the emotions. Through dirty little words slipping inadvertently off his lips, Kadaj unleashed a libidinous force plunging into his body. Moaning sweet obscenities of encouragement, whilst rhythmically being pushed into the mattress, Kadaj felt pearls of sweat trickle down his face and chest. It made him feel alive, even more so than when he was walking the face of the planet. His being bloomed to the sensations of these simple manifestations of existence and he realized he only wanted more. He wanted something that was boiling within; something yearning to be released.

When Kadaj could no longer withhold his second climax of sexual excitement and his portal began cramping rhythmically around a hard member, Cloud threw himself over the blond like a hungry lion; lips merging, swelling, kissing deep and hard, whilst tongues were speaking a language only their bodies understood. Mouths filled with worship and breath inundated of an impending euphoria. Kadaj gave up his seed in the heat of his rapture and pulled the bliss out of Cloud as the young man allowed the silky cream to flood the velvety grounds of the shivering body beneath.

Cloud collapsed on Kadaj's rising chest. The arms receiving him enclosed around his trembling body and held him close until the feelings ebbed out and the night continued in stillness. Kadaj held on to Cloud as if he was clinging on to life itself. Shame or no shame, this was what he wanted more than anything; more than all the powers possible… to live again.

 _NOTE: Thanks for reading and if you've read this far, please take a minute to leave a review. It helps me to see others's veiws, as much as encourages, since it is a lengthy story and a lot of effort has gone into it. Thank you to those who take time._


	14. Fear and Cowards

**Fear and Cowards**

Barrett was inside the food store shopping for the evening. He was considering the different brands of cereals he was asked to get for little Hunci's breakfast. It could not contain too much sugar, for he knew that most companies put way too much sweet-stuff into the food, making it unhealthy even if it was packaged in what could be deemed beneficial. No. It had to be nutritious for the growing body and no sugar. From the dry products he continued on to the diary section and on to the greens and fruits. He had left Hunci outside near the car. On their way to the supermarket they had run into Zane and the two children decided to stay outside. Perhaps just as well, because he could do the shopping in peace and decide what to prepare for dinner without the constant interruption of suggestions that mainly involved meatballs and pasta.

Zane and Hunci were playing tic-tac-toe in the fine dust from the cars that had gathered near the edge of the pavement. They had a deep conversation regarding what movies to rent and decided they would present Barrett with the splendid idea that Zane should spend the night. Both kids agreed that the plan was perfect and that the parent should definitely agree to such a brilliant proposal. They would have a nice meal, see a great movie and stay up long into the night talking and playing computer games. What a perfect evening it would be. As Barrett came out of the store, burdened by two large bags of groceries, the little ones ran up to him and overwhelmed him with a shower of words he hardly understood. He asked them to keep it quiet until he managed to put the food in the car. Once seated in the car, however, they began again.

"Daaad," Hunci started with a tailing interlude and a huge smile.

"Mmyeeeees," Barrett responded in the same way making the two children giggle.

Zane sat in the middle and leaned close in between the two front seats, breathing Barrett in the face with a big beam. Barrett nodded; the charm offensive. Hunci continued with blinking eyes saying,

"Can Zane and I…" at which Barrett interrupted her saying, "No, honey, don't say 'Can Zane and I' when I very well know you both have already made up plans, because if I say 'No', you'll be pouting for the rest of the evening. Just tell me what you guys have planned."

It wasn't Barrett's intention to spoil the little girl and the Gods knew she was very undemanding and humble as a child. But deep inside Barrett was happy that they had run into Zane, for it meant that Hunci could have a buddy to sleep next to and perhaps be calmer and sleep the night through.

"Well," Hunci could hardly restrain herself from jumping up and down in the seats as she revealed the marvellous plan she and Zane had come up with. "…and then we could watch 'The Return of the Maggot Man' with a huge bowl of popcorn and soda, and then play 'Hollow Worlds IV', and sit up late. Pleeeeeeaase? What do you say, what do you say, what do you say… hmm?"

Barrett shrugged and turned on the engine; "What CAN I say?"

"Not much, Mr Barrett," Zane threw in and blew a large bubble with his bubblegum.

As it burst it released a breath full of fruity flavor that filled the car.

"It's just Barrett, Zane," the gentle giant smiled and drove straight to the rental shop.

The evening proceeded well. After a large dinner of meatballs and spaghetti, the youngsters rambled up into Hunci's room with portions of ice cream matching their main meal, soft drinks, a bucket of popcorn and two discs with 'The Return of the Maggot Man' and 'Sparks the Soldier Dog', and their computer games. Barrett sunk down in the sofa with his own bucket of popcorn and a large pint of beer. He was never really one to interact much with people, but riding on a sudden impulse, he called Cid who agreed to watch the current athletic events on TV, followed by a late night horror show with beer, guy-talk and a relaxed atmosphere.

The hours passed by and Hunci was relaxed knowing Barrett had his friend to keep him company down stairs. On a few occasions she and Zane had been gracious enough to invite Barrett and Cid to watch the Maggot Man and play computer games, but strangely they decided to remain downstairs to talk about women.

"How strange," she thought, "How could anyone want to miss out on the latest Maggot Man?"

Hunci sat curled up in the bed amongst pillows and soft covers and Zane did the same by her side. It was always great fun to watch a scary movie, even if Barrett most often disapproved. But somehow, although expecting the worst, Hunci was not at all frightened by the images she saw. Why would she? She had seen worse. Or at least, she believed she had. The Maggot Man, for instance, he was nothing but a huge foamy thing, squirming around and looking silly. It was nothing like that rotting pile of flesh with its tentacles and large dagger-like teeth that she encountered each night. Yes, that monster guarding the doors. As she kept on bringing the subconscious forth, the veiled dream world scattered and she started to remember. Suddenly, she spoke.

"Hey Zane…"

"Mmm?"

"What do you do when fear becomes so big you can't move?"

They both kept on watching the film whilst communicating and faintly attentive, Zane shrugged and presented an answer he didn't even know he harbored inside.

"Swallow it."

"What?"

"Hm?"

"What'd you mean?"

As no clarification was presented, Hunci tore her gaze from the screen and poked Zane in his side to get his attention.

"What do you mean, swallow it?"

The young boy scratched his head, rubbing some salt off his fingers onto his frizzy hair, then started munching on a new fist-full of popcorn whilst talking.

"Well, look at those guys," he said, pointing at the screen. "They're going to die if they don't fight, right?"

"Right," Hunci agreed. "So?"

"So, what does fear matter then?" Zane asked in return. "You can only be afraid of something 'til it happens. Like, they know what will happen if they don't do anything about it. So the only thing to do is to try to do something about the situation."

"I don't get it." Hunci said. "You mean stop being afraid?"

"No," Zane shook his head. "I'm sure they're scared, but they do something about it because there's no other thing to do. It's like the Hollow Planet IV, when you reach the final master level. You know, when the Inland Empire's taken over and the sorcerer has to face the Dark Spirit? Well, he's the hero 'cause even if he's scared he fights the Spirit."

A little light of hope brought a smile to Hunci's lips; "Oh yeah."

"Yeah, that's what's good about these games," Zane added. "You get a new chance even when you die."

Hunci felt her little heart race with joy and agreed; "Yeah, that's the good thing about dreams too."

That night Hunci had once again died and awoke to the firm hands of Zane who shook her shoulder saying; "Hey, Hunci. You're dreaming… wake up."

Hunci awoke relieved to know she was back among the living, but there were no tears running down her face this time. She took a deep breath staring into the darkness and going through the images still lingering on inside her mind.

"I was so close this time," she panted. "You were right. It does help to swallow it. I was really close this time."

Still in the haze of sleep from which he was brutally awakened by Hunci's whimper and scream, Zane was not sure how to answer. Barrett burst in only seconds after the dream was over, but by then his presence was no longer needed. However, compared to previous episodes, Hunci was neither distressed nor frightened. Sweat was pearling down her little face, but she was composed and met his anxiety with a smile.

"Don't worry dad, it was just a silly dream," she reassured. "I promise, next time I'll succeed."

Barrett shook his head; "Succeed with what?"

"To save him… to save us both."

"Save who, munchkin?"

"Loz, of course… from the monster."

Barrett's eyes widened as if he wanted to drown the world inside them. Fear and anguish were slowly ascending upon him as that name from the past sunk into his consciousness. He thought of Cloud and of Vincent and in an instant, his mind barred the frightful reality that was knocking on the door. No! No one must know of Hunci's nightmares. He had sworn to protect the little girl and that included from daemons. He gave Hunci an ardent embrace and to distract them both from the darkness, he suggested for the two friends to watch some late night movies and sit up as long as they wanted. The suggestion was enthusiastically welcomed, but inside Barrett's restless mind, a whirl of anguish was rising.


	15. Obsession

**Obsession**

Vincent had for the first time in many, many years chosen to alter his appearance amongst people; the Daemon was fuelling a strong desire from within that he could not control. He also had the words of the graceful Miss Khin in his wake, encouraging him to come back to life rather than hide from it and live in the past. Since that night, Vincent had visited Miss Khin several times, always ending up in her bed, feeling completely emptied of bitterness and shame. Well, it wasn't completely altruistic for his part, for he knew that in her presence all the ghosts of the past would vanish and give him space to breathe. She managed to turn Sephiroth into a thinking human, a warrior with a spine, and thus Vincent was hoping she could somehow or miraculously give him the bits of his life he so desperately needed in order to be free from guilt.

The words she spoke, "Your face is very beautiful, Mr Valentine. You shouldn't hide it", had the effect of his red mantle now being left at home, as well as his leather gear and metal accessories that were an aid in battle. Today he was just Vincent Valentine, a plain puppet of a powerful Daemon longing to indulge the simple pleasure of the flesh. But the truth was, it wasn't only Chaos sparking that raging desire from within, because Vincent had been alone for a long time and since his first encounter with the submissive fantasy-image of Sephiroth, a certain hunger was consuming his daydreams and seeding an obsession for the night.

Vincent was dressed as any other citizen, walking along the streets trying to clear his mind of the angel. Sephiroth had taken hold of his soul and possessed his mind with the images of a blithe young man who built his concept of the world through the books he read, the people he met, and who never lost his belief in life no matter the pain he suffered. He understood it was for the benefit of the only family he knew, the ShinRa Corporation, and so willingly placed himself at the mercy of the vultures; a decision that later led to his downfall and insanity. A path that took the seraph to the depths of the darkness, where only the emotions sprung from hidden corners of a ravaged soul kept him anchored to the living; anchored to Chaos who was now chanting with lust.

It was a song that could not be heard by humans; not even Vincent. But it released emotions that now revived those tantalizing images of a desirable concubine. Though the warm memories were intertwined with disturbing images of assault, the most disturbing feeling of all was the regret of not taking the chance to possess the angel and to use him to satisfy Chaos' appetite. Vincent had been without physical contact for many years, apart from his most recent encounter with Miss Khin, and this frustration, which ate him from within, only fuelled Chaos' powers over the human. And to some extent, once Sephiroth emptied Chaos of hunger, Vincent felt more at ease during the waking hours. Of course, the generosity of Miss Khin had a dampening effect on both Vincent and Chaos, but there was still a lot more to control. Vincent was all too aware that his amorous encounters with the seraph were partly selfish as it aided in the control of Chaos. And he needed that. Chaos was not to rule Vincent's world, but through Sephiroth the Daemon was tied to the shadow lands; the only place where Vincent's self-control crumbled. However, in that realm, it made no difference.

It was late afternoon and the creatures of the night were coming alive to that sacred calling that made them hide in alleys or secluded corners in clubs to find some privacy for those sensual nocturnal activities. The daytime shops of clothes, as well as cafés were closing to give way for adult shops and nightclubs. Vincent tried to avoid staring bluntly, but remained standing in front of a sex-shop watching the toys displayed in the window. He looked around and felt abashed to the point where he decided to leave, but for some unbeknownst reason, he remained standing there. Shaking his head to mock his own childishness, Vincent took a deep breath and entered the store. It had been so long since he had bluntly indulged in anything that would remind him of physical contact nonetheless it felt good in some strange way. It was a bit daunting and perhaps slightly awkward, but at the same time exciting, because Vincent was doing something, which was completely against his usual persona.

In his wild youth he had been buying explicit merchandise without a second thought, but that was more than forty years ago; it was another life. Vincent halted and fixed his eyes on massage oils, and adult toys that would heighten the experience for both males and females. They varied in size, shape and color, just as he remembered it. The female clothes were sweet and sexy in design, speaking to those deep instincts to own and to possess; just as he wanted to own and possess Sephiroth. Chaos growled in the depth of Vincent's belly and the human allowed illicit fantasies to wash over his mind. Slowly he slipped into the comfort of his own desires even if it had the bitter after taste of Lucrecia's memory.

The items surrounding him, witnessing of the fire within the human body, was something he had wanted to explore with Lucrecia. He had adored that woman and had hoped there would come a day when she could respond to his advances and give into him. Although that day never came, he never stopped thinking about her and when asked to defeat Sephiroth, his response was; "So I am to increase the burden on my soul, by defeating the son of a beloved woman?"

Yes, that was the aim back in the old world, but since then the world spun out of control, changed order and morphed into a bewildering alternative to reality. With that said and thought, Vincent was no longer troubled by the thought of being discovered strolling in an adult store. After a few more glances at the shelves and the merchandise offered he stepped out on the street feeling satisfied in being able to break a trend in his stagnated life.

As he continued on his walk, Vincent was kept company by thoughts on the old world and speculations of what might have been if Lucrecia had answered to his calling. It was difficult to penetrate the alternatives to choices never made and it left Vincent's mind exhausted with diverse probability of the outcomes of life. Before he even knew it, he had shopped enough groceries to last a week, including a bottle of the special reserve Malbec, which he aimed to indulge in with his thyme-roasted quail and Landes foie gras, horseradish mash and port wine jus, as a main course. What time may have passed in his confined crypt under ground, there were some talents that never faded; such as his cooking skill. He knew for a fact that, that bit would have been highly appreciated by Lucrecia. Along his path he also stopped by a late night pharmacy to pick up a packet of strong sedatives. He had a plan and that plan was to force the reality of this world to collapse into the embrace of the underworld where the seraph rested. Tonight, Vincent would deliberately call upon the darkness and unleash it for his own desires.

Back at the apartment, the shower was turned on and his body washed off. The fragrance of shampoo and soap filled the air and Vincent indulged in the heat trickling down his sensitive skin. It had been such a long time since he enjoyed attending to himself. Most often he despised what he saw in the mirror and he spat self-reproach and hatred on the image staring back at him. But tonight, he would make a change even if it would last only this brief moment in time.

Vincent brushed out the sable hair, shaved thoroughly, and properly groomed his body before stepping into his candle-lit bedroom. He seated himself on the edge of the bed and scrutinized his reflection in the mirror across the room. As if he had been a third person watching a stranger, Vincent was pleasantly surprised to find that his body was a thing of desire. Rich, raven hair was resting upon his shoulders and back, framing a handsome face, intensely staring back from the mirror. But there was someone else's complexion he had wanted to see reflecting back and immediately he came to think of the personal diary of Sephiroth. He took out the book from top drawer of the bedside table and slid under the covers to read. Sephiroth was a fifteen-year-old boy, but eloquent and mature in his innocence.

" _I was out on the ledge tonight. The night was so calm and I couldn't stay indoors. Recently, I've been feeling so confined and being between walls is killing me. I feel caged and restrained. I can't breathe. I want to be out in the open all the time and I need to feel the cold against my skin. I'm burning up. Lately, I'm always burning._

 _I've been haunted by visions so foreign, yet so overwhelming – almost like basic instincts but I never had them before. A calling I feel the need to respond to but I don't know how. These visions have been consuming my days and obscured my thoughts. Even in waking hours I dream and the pressure is driving me crazy._

 _Tonight I felt it again. I saw a couple in the park outside of the research complex. The park is dark at night with only scarce lighting, but couples seem to find their way there during the weekends and especially at night. They didn't see me where I was sitting, but I could see them clearly. I know they had sex. I've been taught and had sterile lectures about the concept and procedure, but there seems to be more to it. 'They' didn't lecture me about the emotions and sensuality involved; the passion and the physical contact that the couple seemed to be enjoying. They were caressing and kissing a lot, and at places on the body that wasn't included in the lectures. As when the girl rested her head between the man's legs and before he took her on the wet grass, he did the same to her. I could hear her scream with pleasure and I know she had an orgasm, but I want to know what it's like. I mean not on my own._

 _Watching them only made the pressure inside worse and I don't know what to do. I keep on thinking about Miss Khin every time this happens. I don't know why. I've grown out of her embrace, as she hardly reaches to my chest, but I love to rest in her lap still. Something has changed about her, though. When I lie in her arms, I've noticed she smells different from before. Some time back I would only notice the fragrance of her shampoo or perfume, but now I notice something more and it's driving me crazy._

 _One day she was in a hurry to come to her evening shift with me, and the traffic had been bad. She was running through the metro station and by the time she got here, she was warm and skin moist all over. She apologized for being 'sweaty', she said, but I couldn't find it offensive at all. It was so intoxicating that it made me dizzy. There is a nice fragrance on her skin that's not something artificial. It comes from within her and its so strong, I can't tell why I didn't notice it before. I can feel it stronger when I'm in her lap and head resting on her thighs. I love that. It smells really nice and I want more of it. That fragrance makes me warm all over and it swells in my stomach almost as if I've been feeding off of it. It makes my head silent and my body so heavy… and then I get those visions again._

 _I see her beneath me and I'm inside of her. I can feel it all over my skin and I crave for it like an animal. Yesterday, I stole a book from the library. It's called "Little birds" and all of that, which is described in it, I'd like to do with her. I don't know what a woman tastes like, but I want to find out… and I want Miss Khin to teach me. I really like her hands and I want her to touch me more. After training she always attends to me, but it's not like before when I was younger. I know 'they' don't want me to show feelings and so I pretend I feel nothing when she attends to me in front of them, but when I'm alone with her, I can be different. When I'm injured she cares for my wounds and she used to bathe me too. Nowadays she says I have to do it on my own. I know what she means and why, but I still insist on her doing most of the work._

 _The other day, she was cleaning my wing again and after it receded she placed a hand on my back to playfully scratch it. If there was a Heaven, this must have been it. The sharpness of her nails so gingerly dancing over my skin… I never would've wanted her to stop. I felt my mouth instantly fill with saliva, eyes covered in tears like if someone had thrown sand in them, Goosebumps on my arms and something started burning in me, concentrated between my thighs. I didn't dare to move. I sat still the whole time and only when she had left me for the night did I dare to stand up to see the consequences of her touch. This happens too often these days… but I don't mind. I know when I get hard I will get to dream of her and I do. Every time. And every morning after that I wake up with wet sheets._

 _Funnily enough, she doesn't mind taking care of those sheets even if they need to be changed so often. I once asked if she resented all this happening right now, but she just kissed my cheeks and told me to give into it. She also convinced the President to switch off the cameras. They have been dismounted and only a few work during daytime. It gives me more privacy. She also convinced them that I should have a residence in a dormitory at the southern University campus instead of being cooped up in this hole. So when I turn sixteen in a few days time, I'll be moving on my own and into a place with more people of my own age. It's a good thing and I'm really looking forward to it, but I hope Miss Khin can come and see me._

 _Is it wrong for me to like her in that way… and eleven years older than me? I don't see many couples like that, but I don't care… the only reality I know is that each time I play and see my hands wrapped around myself, I wish it was her hands and her scent filling my head."_

Vincent placed the diary down with a liberating sigh. His ruby eyes slid over the tanned chest, the firm abdomen, and curiously dug in between the tightly clutched thighs over which an awakening member was resting and reaching towards his stomach. He submerged in thoughts of a young man in desire; longing and fantasizing about a woman's body and the promise of release he so desperately craved for. And as time passed, the fantasies become more relentless, finally overtaking even a great Soldier. Stilling his heart in its wild pursuit for passion, he re-opened the dairy and continued reading. Sephiroth, six months of torturous desires later.

 _Miss Khin just left. It's close to early morning but the sun hasn't risen yet. It's been the best night of my life. I've finally had a taste of intimacy… and it was so amazing. I asked her to read for me from my favorite book. I know she was nervous, I could hear it in her voice, but she calmed after a while and fulfilled my wish. I'm so grateful for that. She began reading, building up tension, and whenever she read the explicit details, I felt like I could burst. I tried to focus on her face and the words she spoke… watching her eyes and the movement of her lips. I kept on imagining those lips on me and so when she was finished I couldn't stop myself anymore. I couldn't hold back the feelings and to answer her question of how I felt, I directed her hands between my thighs. It felt so good to feel her skin against mine and at such a sensitive place. All she needed to do was to run her fingers over the shaft and I spent. I couldn't hold it back. It felt like a sudden explosion and I lay there trembling… yet still unfulfilled. I wanted so much more._

 _I asked her to kiss me and moved up to Miss Khin. She seemed reluctant at first but I begged her not to reject me… not now. So she started ever so gently to graze her lips against mine and then softly pressed them against my mouth. She cupped her hands around my jaws, caressing my face and neck and shoulders, and traced her hands with her lips. I was close to climaxing again and felt a strange hunger grow beyond my control. I had no idea what to do or what to say, I just wanted her to consume me._

 _I didn't know my skin was so sensitive to a touch and so responsive to her lips. She asked me to just lie down and relax and she would take care of me, but I wanted something more. I wanted to see her naked and to feel her, but Miss Khin said I wasn't ready for that yet and with due time she would let me closer. I was still so hungry and placed my hands on her breasts asking her to at least let me feel her. She took off her blouse and bra, and I felt like my heart would just stop as I touched her chest._

 _Her breasts are not at all as big as those I've seen in magazines and movies. Hers are so nice to the touch as they filled my palms. I just couldn't help myself anymore. I pushed her down on her back and lay on top of her. She told me to "be a nice boy" and get off, but I couldn't; all I wanted to do was to get under her skin and just nestle into her core. At first she was a bit distancing, but as I calmed a little she responded to my kisses and opened her mouth. Feeling the tip of her tongue was so strange… so wet and metallic to the taste, yet so exciting. She told me to kiss more softly, to allow the tongue to explore and let my hands flow over her skin... to feel and to caress._

 _We kissed for a long time and without even thinking my hips began autonomously rubbing against her. Even through her trousers I could feel her heat. It was as if her body was inviting me in and I felt as if I belonged there._

 _I knew she wouldn't let me feel her sex if I had asked, since 'I wasn't ready', so I distracted her with my kisses and deftly slipped a hand past the lining. She reacted immediately and commanded me with a firm 'no', but by now, I am immune to that word… even when she says it. I only obey if I want to, it's just that I want to more often when she says it… but not this time. I smiled back and kissed her lips and whispered that it was 'only a touch'. Just to feel her and I promised I wouldn't do more. I know I am strong enough to force her to do anything I want and she wouldn't be able to resist, but it's not what I want. I want her to enjoy me. I told her 'Please, I just want to feel you… just once' and she spread her thighs ever so slightly; just enough for my hand to find enough space to that moist heat._

 _I closed my eyes and relished the sensation of that silky smooth skin, the folds and the swollen muscle that contracted around my finger as I slipped it inside her. Watching her face dissolve with pleasure was the greatest thing I've ever experienced. The way Miss Khin closed her eyes, the way her heart beat faster, the breath became shallow… she enjoyed something I did for her. Suddenly, she pulled my face close to hers and kissed me deeply and I knew I was doing something right. It was that same kind of hunger I felt too. But I made a promise and upon removing my hand I had to still my curiosity and taste her. My fingers were delectably wet. Her moist is like a film of liquid silk and the taste was so fresh and only with a hint of saltiness. I love it. I want to know more and I've chosen my tutor._

 _It seems I'm a very fast learner and she appreciates me trying. With her guidance I explored her breasts and found out that my nipples were just as sensitive to the same kind of play as hers are. She made me aware of that after which she advanced towards my hips._

 _I've been dreaming of this for so long and when she took my member in her hands and moved over it with her breath I thought my soul would take flight. It all happened in slow-motion... the way she pulled the foreskin slightly back so the skin stretched and made me so sensitive. Her red, swollen lips slipped over the glans and then the shaft disappeared into her mouth. I watched as her eyes closed and hands possessed me fully. I can still feel her nails tickling my groin, and one hand moving over the shaft whilst mouth sucking me in. I watched her breasts hang between her shoulders as she bent over my hips, her rounded buttocks in view, her tongue teasing me all over. By the Gods, it was so euphoric and to my own disappointment I spent again so soon. My heart was hammering and I wasn't even able to speak. My body was shaking again, but she lay next to me until it stopped._

 _She smiled and I could feel the smell of my sex on her breath. It was so alluring. I dove into her mouth to taste it (salty and thick with a slight bitterness) and I was almost ready to experiment again, but she said I had to save some for the future too. The weekend is approaching and she will stay the whole time. She said she would bring some movies and we would watch them together… to learn, to play and to enjoy. Wow… I am so happy… so calm… so happy._

Vincent closed his eyes in a sense of decorum, yet biting his lower lip and smiling mischievously before a soft touch sent an arrow of arousal through his groin. He held his breath as some strange power forced him to open his eyes and slowly part his legs, allowing his throbbing member to bob and sway with each heartbeat. Veins protruded along a shaft that was squeezed at the base by shapely fingers. Vincent released his breath, trying to fight the overwhelming lust, but almost as if against his will he pulled his legs up and widened them even more exposing his bottom and groin for his own curious eyes that were licking him all over from the mirror. Conflicting emotions collided within as the restraints of the human and desires of a Daemon were struggling to win over the flesh; but the battle was lost even before it began.

It was a self-indulgent private game he played; tremendously stirring and Vincent had no desire to stop now. He groaned with pleasure, trying to keep his focus on the wanting man in the mirror, but images of Sephiroth were luring him to act on his desire to call for the angel. Vincent fought hard to restrain the urge to intensify his motions, knowing his raging libido would force him into climaxing too soon. He needed the seraph that had moved Chaos into a restless state; exuding through his pores like a smouldering aura. With a last thought of the pale concubine, Vincent reached for a strong sedative capsule on his bedside table. Nightmares or not, tonight he was confident he would not be allowing the darkness of the other world to come between this overwhelming concupiscence for the Angel.

Vincent closed his eyes but couldn't sleep. The heat inside was burning with the flames of passion and the sedative he took previously was not enough to send his body into deep sleep. Frustration was building up to the autonomous movements of his hands, stimulating him into frenzy. Unable to withstand it, his hands possessed the swollen member, fingers hungrily enclosing the shaft and tugging the skin to the rhythm of his moans. Vincent felt like bursting with elation. He gazed down on himself, penis weeping lubricant all over his fingers and knuckles, making the engorged organ slick and deliciously wet.

Feelings kept pent up for decades were tearing him apart and the first orgasm left him with traces of opaque fluid released from within and glistening over the pulsating body. Vincent tried to catch his breath, muscles in his abdomen still cramping with release, but the orgasm only boosted his hunger for more. His fingers kept on playing as if guided by an unknown force and soon revived the semi flaccid penis with new vigor as the cinnamon skinned beauty lost himself in pleasure anew.

"That looks so… gratifying," floated from the end of the bed and Vincent threw himself up from his position.

The separated semen trickled down his chest and formed a tiny pool on his flat belly. Abashed and confused he stared at the angel kneeling at his feet, wondering how long he had been observed.

"You came," was the only thing Vincent managed to exhale whilst he kept on panting.

"No, you did," Sephiroth stated smiling, "besides, you called."

He bowed his head as befitted a submissive concubine. Not waiting for the raven-haired lover to respond, the angel posed a careful inquiry with a single word;

"Why?"

Vincent supported himself on his elbows, exposing his body to the timid gaze of the angel, but closed his legs as a faint smile spread across the black lips of the seraph at the notion of the pulsating, symmetrical member. But the angel cut in swiftly.

"Don't hide it," Sephiroth whispered, cheeks blushing into healthy pink. "I… I like it."

At that moment, Vincent's senses sharpened like a knife and cut through the tangling restraints that kept his emotional state crippled and accepted the confrontations of his shame as he audaciously spread his thighs. The angel inadvertently licked his lips and with a flicker of enthusiasm flashing in his cyan eyes, he silently asked for permission to come closer. Vincent's face was completely devoid of expression, but encouraged the pale seraph by remaining still whilst fingertips moved gingerly over his shins and knees.

"You still haven't answered me," Sephiroth said and blinked mischievously at Vincent; a subtle invitation to a silent battle for dominance. But Vincent was not the one to be taken aback and lose his authority.

"Because, my dear…" the raven-haired warrior began softly, though there was a dangerous undertone in his silky voice. In concordance with his words, Vincent moved up from his position to sit down on the heels, and before Sephiroth managed to react on the alluring presence, Chaos had broken through the barriers of the flesh and with a powerful grip of the silver hair, the fiend hissed viciously into the mouth of the Angel;

"… you have possessed me!"

With an aggressive attack, Chaos pinned the angel against the face of the headboard, growling with an exquisite mix of fury and arousal; his fangs dripping with hunger. The seraph had long since been emptied of his feistiness, as visions of death and terror killed the remaining warmth inside him, and thus he posed no resistance, just gazed upon the agile Daemon with sad eyes.

"You have me… just don't feed me more pain?" he asked humbly. "I know of nothing else anymore."

"And you shall NOT…" Chaos fixed him with his glowing eyes in a dramatic emphasis of his statement; "…know of anyone other… but ME!"

The shapely fingers of the earthly Daemon were crowned with sharp claws that tentatively played with the curls and plaits of the silver hair, traced the delicate lines of the pale face, and explored the smooth surface of the black lips as he smeared the lipstick outside the contours of the mouth. From the depths of Chaos, the human part of Vincent was calling into the consciousness of a dangerous mind and seeded a touch of tenderness as he acknowledged the beauty of the Seraph.

"Flawless…" the Daemon murmured and added a declaration of obsession, whispering the word, "Mine!"

The makeup was unlike anything Sephiroth would have ever allowed himself to wear back in the old days. The demon of Wutai, would not give into any pleasurable moments in life, especially if that had to be on his expense in one way or the other. The harsh upbringing of the young man, isolated from the world and robbed of his mother, had shaped him into a fighting machine that obeyed and destroyed on command without remorse. Indeed, Sephiroth had been a great General at the tender age of eighteen, but since then his time had risen and fallen with the cycles of the sun and now he was trapped in the shadow lands that raped his youthful innocence and consumed the only remaining emotions he still harbored as an undying legacy from his mother.

Although Chaos was a parallel to the Seraph, an extraordinary creature of superhuman powers, he was nonetheless still bound to stronger sensations and emotions compared to the young General. He was the carrier of angst and hatred, but sheltered longing inside, which had augmented through years of solitude to the point where it encaged the Daemon in a crypt of desire. Vincent desired, but only Chaos responded to instincts, and now he had responded to the most unlikely person Vincent ever could have imagined would touch the currents within his soul. His greatest enemy, Sephiroth. No matter that Chaos' fangs were dripping with hunger, he could not bring himself to tear the flesh of the angel with the sadism that boiled inside.

Chaos imbibed the submissiveness radiating from the flawless complexion before him; the long, thick eyelashes fluttering over the cyan jewels, the black eyeliner framing and enhancing the lucidity of the cat-like eyes, and the black eye shadow completing the image of a desirable odalisque he had been dreaming of. The curious fringe arched over the softly doming forehead, whilst silver locks came raining down to frame the chiselled face of a tired warrior. The one Chaos wanted to possess and the one he wanted to have no matter the cost. He pushed the legs of the seraph tightly against the pale chest until a throbbing member was staring up at him, completely exposing the tender groin and the tight little portal blushing in a deep, rosy color. Chaos growled from the depth of his chest and a pointed, dragon-like tongue travelled across the thin lips behind which a set of razor sharp fangs glistened.

The seraph said nothing just placed his body at the mercy of his opponent, penis twitching and his swollen entrance contracting and relaxing to the waves of arousal that washed over him like electrical impulses. His eyes slithered along the cinnamon beauty who licked his fingers and daringly pointed out the exquisite saltiness of the lubricant seeping through that tiny slit on the swollen glans. Sephiroth blessed the Daemon with an insecure smile watching drops of his desire disappear inside the hungry mouth.

Chaos' wet fingers found their goal once again between the firm thighs of the Seraph, softly caressing and circling the little portal that was pulsating impatiently in concordance with Sephiroth's whimpers. Chaos relished the power he exerted over his great foe, torturing the seraph with questions of actions arising out of sexual craving, and longing to be set free with a single word of submission. As Sephiroth exhaled a dizzy 'yes', high on euphoria, he offered admittance to a thick middle finger slipping inside him and playfully brushing against his prostate. He moaned out loud, muscles enclosing the probing finger. Sephiroth bit his lower lip, clearly struggling to control his feelings, but his pelvis began autonomously tilting to the movements of the penetrating finger. With an extensive hiss he asked for more and another finger slipped inside.

"Vincent," Sephiroth panted calling for the gentle human inside the supernatural creature, but Chaos would not allow for the man to surface.

Instead, he dove into the source of passion, devouring the vein covered penis with an enthusiastic growl and stimulating every inch of the engorged organ. The movements became more fervent as the angel satisfied himself on the penetrating fingers and inside the mouth of the Daemon, releasing his creamy seed with an echoing confirmation of Chaos' talents. With a trembling body he received the Daemon's kisses tasting of his own desire and smiled reassuringly, knowing that a part of him was savoured by the living.

Intoxicated by the salty bitterness, Chaos threw himself at Sephiroth, pushing himself deeply inside the body and slamming it against the decorated headboard with each determined thrust. The penetration had been so easy, the portal delectably slick yet tightly squeezing and massaging the insatiable Daemon. Sephiroth bit down hard as the giver brushed repeatedly against the swollen prostate and kept relentlessly sending maximum spur to his body upon contact, whilst Chaos rocked himself to a releasing orgasm and filling the seraph with divine essence. The angel's passage was overflowing and the liquid seeped out of him with each plunge, leaving traces of intense erotic games on the sheets below; Chaos kept on thrusting until his strength faded and the fury ebbed out.

The courtship and intercourse had been short and intense leaving Sephiroth with a slight twinge and Chaos temporarily emptied of the rage, and slowly drifting into sleep as serenity descended upon the night. The seraph had suffered through violations like these as often as he appeared in dreams, but at least this was under pleasant conditions, with a giver he accepted and the pain was a mere shadow in comparison to the moment of bliss.

Sometime in the dead of the night, Vincent awoke from his dreams, chest covered in sweat and mind immersed in confusion. The pleasure was still lingering in his private parts and he felt the dampness on the stained sheets against his skin, bearing witness to the intensity of Chaos' activity. The candles had burned down, tears of wax solidified as pearls on their frozen path. Vincent looked through the window, showered by the pale moonlight, and raked his fingers through his sable hair sighing with sadness.

"Just another dream. Merciful mother, how I wish you were real."

The most wonderful, deep voice broke through the darkness.

"What are you mumbling about, Vincent?"

The raven-haired lover swiftly turned on the bedside lamp, exhaling ecstatically though laced with disbelief as Sephiroth looked wearily back at him; peering towards the light cutting through the darkness that his eyes had grown accustomed to.

"By the Gods… I'm glad you're still here," Vincent humbled himself and kissed the words into Sephiroth's mouth.

The angel responded wordlessly to the endearing demonstration of passion and opened up for Vincent's desires. Chaos was dormant and satisfied to the point where he could allow the human to taste the sweetness of the seraph in a private moment.

"For a while more," Sephiroth responded, rolling on top of Vincent and coiling around him like a vine; for once enjoying the closeness and warmth of simple pleasures that his human heritage recognized and welcomed as a memory he would bring with him into the wastelands.

The brevity of their relationship, and the circumstances surrounding their meetings, illuminated an intimacy so undeniable that it was as if they had known each other since beyond the back of time. At present, however, the men united on equal terms as the roles of giver and receiver interchanged with mood and selfless offerings of sincere emotions.

Vincent lay on his stomach, pushing his fleshy, muscular bottom in the curve of Sephiroth's hips, accepting the pain that was intimately aligned with him as a receiver. The seraph was gentle cautious movements, whispering words of comfort that the pain would soon come to an end. But not even a mind defined by total control could withstand that swift moment of elation that pushed him fervently into the body of the man beneath. Fingers plaited, hands holding tightly, and the sounds of body against body filled the ether until stillness descended upon the wildly pounding hearts. The night gave way to the brilliance of the morning and the two lovers greeted the sun in the eyes of one another.

Sephiroth's soft fingers traced the lines of Vincent's face and sighed; "I wish I could stop time."

Vincent kissed the fingers passing by his lips and battled against the impending rage as the golden rays pierced the skin of the angel and made his body wither as the world of the living started waking.

"Stay with me," he whispered, but he knew that Sephiroth's wish was impossible and thus held him tightly in the aching embrace and shut his eyes, pledging a promise.

"I will find a way," Vincent repeated over and over and by the time he opened his ruby gaze, Sephiroth was gone leaving behind shattering emptiness. Vincent started shaking with raging fury, Chaos breaking through with force. With wings extended over the body, he roared out his anger and cursed the day that stole his dark prince.


End file.
